


Empire of Blood

by adoctoraday



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Canon, Betrayal, Brotherly Love, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Loss, Children, Declarations Of Love, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Estrangement, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Loss, Family Secrets, Friendship/Love, Georgia, Grief/Mourning, Gunshot Wounds, Jealous Bass Monroe, Loss, Loss of Parent(s), Miles Matheson is Charlie Matheson's Parent, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Multi, Nanites, Nuclear Warfare, POV Bass Monroe, Post-Blackout (Revolution), Pre-Blackout (Revolution), Pregnancy, Protective Miles Matheson, Psychological Torture, Rating: M, Reunions, Revolution, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Texas Rangers, Torture, True Love, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Love, War, protective Monroe, randall flynn is a shitty dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 150,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/adoctoraday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becca Flynn is 20 when the power dies and confronts an ugly truth about humanity;when pushed, we are capable of dark and brutal things to survive. She meets two men who follow their moral compass across the country, bending it to their will. Her family changed the world, her choices will too. Can she fight to save her country, family, and her soul? Slowburn BeccaxBass</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

_**September 17th, 2012- Day of the blackout** _

"So, who can tell me why it's important to have checks and balances within the government? Why is it that the Supreme Court holds sway over the Legislative branch?"

My pen scribbled in my notebook as the professor spoke and I wrote my answer before raising my hand, not looking up.

"Yes Becca?" he called.

"Because if the Legislative body created a law that was unconstitutional the Supreme Court can challenge it and strike it down. Likewise, if a common citizen brings a case before the court and challenges the constitutionality of a case or a law, the Supreme Court can choose to strike it down. Checks and balances must be upheld so that no part of the government holds all of the power and somehow gains a stranglehold over the others, thereby creating a dictatorship."

I glanced up to see Professor Mason raise his brows and smile. "Very good Becca." He turned and smiled at the class, "I hope you all wrote that down."

My phone buzzed and I looked at the screen.

**Know it all :D**

I smirked at the text from my best friend Hannah. It wasn't my fault that my father worked for the government and had drilled the basics about civil liberty and history into me since I was a small child.

Plus, I wanted to be a politician someday. Not the kind my father was. His work with the DoD was Top Secret and made him tense, irritable, and angry. I wanted to serve as a Congresswoman or a Senator and make real change happen.

I wanted to help people.

**Keep that up and I won't help you study for the final.**

Hannah was smart, but she didn't do well studying. She much preferred to party. Not that I minded, she forced me out of my room after I had been studying for hours and needed a break. But occasionally it was me who needed to keep an eye on her.

Actually most of the time.

**I need your help because you're a know it all…and it's why I love you 3**

I laughed softly and shook my head. Turning my chin I caught Hannah's eye and grinned at her. She grinned back before I turned back to my notebook and continued taking notes. _American Politics 202_ was an easy class compared to having dinner with my father.

I sighed, thinking about the last family dinner I had gone to.

_My fingers played with my fork, pushing my chicken around the plate. Dad was orating about something that was happening at work, something that would "save the world." I sighed softly, wishing my water in front of me was a glass of wine._

_Ever since my brother Eddie died in Afghanistan six months ago, dad has been obsessed with finding a way to stop the terrorists and save the world._

_The thought of Eddie's smiling face makes my breath catch and my eyes tear up. I quickly grab my water glass and sip it until I regain control._

_"_ _Well Rebecca? Can you explain why you are doing so poorly in chemistry?"_

_My father's voice, cold and inquisitive makes me look up from my half empty plate. I shrug. "Because it doesn't make sense. You know I've never been good at math, and it's a very large part of chemistry. My friend Hannah is helping me though. She's really good."_

_My father's brows rose, "The same Hannah who you go to parties with?" he asked, his eyes narrowing._

_I sighed, "Yea dad. She's really smart. She's a chemistry and biology double major."_

_He frowned, "So why is she taking politics classes with you?" he demanded._

_"_ _Because it's her minor."_

_"_ _Busy young lady. You should be more like her."_

_My fingers tightened around my fork. I was already an International Relations and Business double major with a minor in Russian. What else could he want?_

_"_ _I'll certainly try dad. Maybe you want me to start taking more classes than I can handle so I get so stressed that I fail? Or maybe I'll just start doing coke like some of the girls. Or maybe, it's just that I'm not Eddie."_

_I watched as my harsh words cut into my father and he glared at me. "How dare you!" he hissed at the same time my mother whispered, "Becca!"_

_I shoved back my chair and stood, "Please excuse me, I'm not hungry anymore."_

_My father stood and shook his head, "We're not done here!"_

_I tossed my napkin, "I am."_

_I stormed out of the room and grabbed my purse and keys, driving until I no longer felt my father's words pursuing me._

* * *

"Hey, Becca, come on, you don't want to be late for chemistry, you already suck at it!"

The sound of my best friend's voice shook me out of my memory and I looked up to find that class had ended. I quickly gathered up my things and slung my bag over my shoulder. Hannah smiled at me and I grinned back weakly.

She chattered on about a party that was happening tonight while I smiled and nodded in all the right places, my mind still locked on the memory of my brother.

Chemistry passed in a haze of letters, numbers and incomprehensible bullshit. By the time Hannah and I left my head was pounding and I hardly felt like going to a party, let alone studying.

Hannah and I walked back to our room, where I desperately tried to ignore her incessant chatter about the party. It was only when the room grew silent and stayed that way for some time that I realized Hannah had stopped talking.

I looked up from my notes and found Hannah laying out outfits for the party, her gaze occasionally resting on me with concern before flickering away. I knew that look. I had seen it with increasing frequency over the last 6 months whenever I decided not to go out, or stayed up late studying, or pulled any sort of anti-social crap, as Hannah called it.

After another ten minutes of her staring at me sidelong, I sighed and shut my book. "Hannah. Just say what you're thinking."

She shook her head, "Becca, you hardly go out anymore with me. You broke up with Kyle, and I get why, but I just…I hate seeing you like this." She gave me the saddest look and something inside of me twisted.

I glanced away and my mouth twisted. "I don't want to talk about it tonight Hannah." I stood and went to my closet, grabbing a set of gym clothes before walking away to the bathroom, ignoring her look of hurt.

When I came back to the room she had positioned herself on her bed and was reading her notes, studiously ignoring me. I grabbed my phone and ear buds, tucking my keys into my pocket before walking out the door.

I jogged across campus and through downtown Philadelphia to the gym, ignoring the catcalls, whistles and stares that came my way, eager to put everything out of my mind. Pushing the door open, I inhaled and smiled faintly at the scent of leather and sweat.

Winding my way through the gym, I nodded to a few of the men and women hitting on the bags, sparring with each other, and lifting. I climbed into the ring and waved to Joe, my boxing instructor.

"Hey Becca!" he called, waving me over. I smiled back, already feeling the tension in my shoulders ease. He tossed me tape for my hands and I quickly set to wrapping them. Joe came over a few minutes later and checked my hands, tapping my knuckles lightly.

"How you doing kid?" he murmured.

I shrugged.

He raised a brow and nodded. "Alright well, remember to keep your hands up and protect those weak spots."

I nodded and stepped back, lifting my hands to protect my face, circling Joe cautiously. He was a tall man, nearly six foot four, and heavily muscled. A retired Marine; he had opened the gym ten years ago, hiring veterans, teaching them to train others, and giving them hope and help.

When I had heard about this place after Eddie died, I had been drawn like a moth to a flame. When I had first entered the gym, I had stood awkwardly to the side, staring. Joe had seen me, standing there, had seen something in my eyes, and had handed me a pair of gloves.

Instead of asking me who I was, or why I was there, he taught me how to fight until something in me had broken and I had collapsed, crying. Through the tears I had told him about Eddie, and he had sat beside me, his face grim.

Six months later I had better control of my emotions, and was getting better at fighting.

As Joe snapped my head to the side with a lightning fast hook, I swore and shook my head. _Okay, marginally better._

Thirty minutes later Joe and I were both sitting on the mat holding rags up to our faces, stemming bloody noses and lips. He grinned at me, "You're doing great kid."

I nodded, "Thanks Joe."

He nodded, "How's school going?" he asked softly.

I shrugged, "Chemistry is still killing me. But everything else is easy." It wasn't an exaggeration; most of the other classes came easily.

Joe smiled, "You're a smart kid Becca. Strong too. Don't let it get you down."

I sighed and nodded, staring down at my hands. I could feel Joe's eyes on me and the weight of them finally forced the words from me that had been strangling me all day.

"My dad doesn't love me as much as he does Eddie."

Joe sighed and his hand landed on my shoulder.

"Your dad is struggling with some pretty strong grief there kid. He loves you, and he's trying to reconcile that with the fact that he lost his son to something unimaginable. Nothing makes sense right now, and if he comes down on you, well, you gotta cut him some slack."

I sighed and nodded, "I guess so. I-I just…I miss Eddie, and he acts like I'll never live up to who he was. He won't talk about him." My lips shuddered and I ran a hand over them, taking a deep shaky breath to try and steady myself.

Joe squeezed my shoulder, "You can talk to me about him, you know that. Half of the men and women in here have lost someone. You know I have. We all got wounds. It takes time for them to heal."

I swiped hastily at a stray tear and nodded. Joe's shoulder nudged mine and I looked up, smiling faintly at his grin. "Get outta here kid and go to a party. Forget about your dad, chemistry, and anything else troublin you. Okay?" he ordered gently.

I nodded and stood, cuffing his head softly. "See you later boss."

He grinned and waved, watching me leave as usual. Joe's gym might have been in a shady part of town, but no one messed with the patrons who came and went. They knew that Joe's people were tough, and that Joe had a shotgun that he wasn't afraid to use.

As I jogged back to campus the last of the light left the sky and the air grew colder. I pulled the zipper up on my hoodie and jogged up the steps of the dorm, my legs sore from exercise. As I walked down my hall, my steps slowed, I didn't want to fight more with Hannah.

Sighing, I pushed the door open and found the room empty. A bright pink sticky-note on my desk caught my attention. Kicking off my sneakers, I strolled over and picked it up.

_Bex,_

_I'm sorry for pushing you earlier. Come out if you want, or don't, just please know I only want you to be happy._

_Love you girl,_

_H_

My fingers smoothed over the words and I smiled faintly. I looked at the clock, it was only 8pm, I could eat, shower and pick out an outfit for the party and meet Hannah. I quickly grabbed my towel and went to the bathroom, stripping off my sweaty clothes before climbing in.

The hot water soothed my aching muscles and cleaned away the sweat and grime from the gym until I felt refreshed. I ran my fingers through my shoulder length chestnut brown hair and rinsed the shampoo out before shutting the water off and stepping out.

Shrugging my robe on, I wrapped the towel around my hair and patted it off before running a brush through it and then applying conditioner. My hair had been a frizzy mess as a child, Eddie had always teased me and called me a little lion, it looked so much like a mane.

Piling it up in a clip, I went out and slid on my bra and underwear before staring at my closet. None of my clothes were like Hannah's. I never looked as sexy as she did when we went out.

Sighing, I reached for a pair of jeans and slid them on. My phone buzzed and I grabbed it, frowning when I saw my father calling. I briefly considered not answering, but Joe's words rang in my ears.

"Hey dad, what's up?" I murmured.

"Becca. I want you to know that tonight I'm going to stop the men who killed your brother."

My heart thumped painfully. "What does that mean?" I demanded.

"It means that the world will be changed forever." His voice held an ominous tone and my stomach churned.

"Dad…what's happening? I'm worried" I whispered.

"Don't worry dear. Everything will be just fine. I love you." The call ended and I stood staring at my phone, my heart thumping. Something was definitely not right.

My fingers scrolled through my phone until I found my mother's number and hit _Send_. Two rings later her soft voice answered, "Becca? Are you ok?" she asked.

"No mom, dad just called, and he sounded really odd. He told me he was stopping the men who killed Eddie. He said the world was going to be changed forever." My voice shook, "Mom, what's going on?"

There was a long moment of silence and then a deep sigh came over the line. "Becca…your dad has been working on a project that's highly classified. I only know because I saw some of the papers. It seems as though there's a group that has come up with some…code, a virus, that can be used to completely wipe out the power in a facility. He wants to use it against the terrorists."

My brain struggled to keep up. "B-but…don't they already have stuff like that? Like…EMP's or some bullshit?"

"Language Becca!" my mom scolded.

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry mom. But don't they?" I asked.

"Yes sweetie, but apparently this has the ability to not just knock out the power, but keep it out. Permanently."

The implications of a weapon like that were not lost on me. They also terrified me.

"Mom…I…I love you."

"I love you too sweetie. Get some rest."

"You too mom." I hung up and stared around the room, my desire to go out to the party having been killed faster than if I had been doused with a bucket of ice water.

My phone buzzed again and I looked down to see a text from Hannah.

**Hey girl, I hope you're ok, don't study too long tonight. :D**

A faint smile crossed my lips and I quickly texted back.

**Hey H, don't drink too much and I promise not to study too hard.**

I padded across the room to my closet and pulled on a sweater, slipping socks on so my toes weren't freezing anymore. College dorms were many things; warm was not one of them.

Sinking down on my bed, I pulled out my chemistry book and snagged Hannah's notes, working on the homework slowly. Two hours later I was rubbing at my eyes, a headache pounding its way back.

My stomach grumbled loudly and I sighed, rolling over to reach to the mini fridge. I snatched out a bottle of juice and a sandwich I had bought from the cafeteria earlier and wolfed them down, my stomach making appreciative noises the whole time.

Sighing, I looked at the clock. It wasn't too late to go to the party…maybe if I went I would get into the mood. Flopping back against the pillows on my bed I stared up at the bland white ceiling, my eyes tracing the cracks and lines as they had thousands of times before.

My eyes drifted shut, the headache still pounding away between my temples.

The lights overhead flickered brightly and the tv in the next room blared. I sighed and opened my eyes. The lights flickered again. My phone made a strange noise and I looked down, eyes widening as I took in the sight of the screen flickering with white lines.

The power surged, bulbs shattering in my room and then just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended…everything went dark.

I sat on my bed, staring around my now black room and hear people opening their doors, calling out to each other. I stood and went to the window, watching as the distant lights faded out, hearing screams and tires screeching.

My gut writhed. I hoped Hannah was okay at the party.

I paced around the room, holding my dead phone, pressing the on/off button, praying it would come back to life, but the screen remained resolutely black. Thirty minutes passed before I heard the sound of the door handle turn and when it did I turned, edging back, my fingers groping for a weapon as my heart raced.

When I saw the familiar form of Hannah, I let out a gasp of relief. "Oh thank god! I was so worried about you!" I exclaimed. She ran forward, her high heels in one hand, purse in the other, and wrapped her arms around me.

"I was so worried about you too! The power went out and everyone freaked out! Cars were wrecking everywhere, people are hurt…Becca, I think I saw a dead person."

Her voice trembled and I could feel her shaking in my arms.

I pulled away and stared at her, my eyes wide. Mascara ran down her pale cheeks, tears streaking them. "Are you sure?" I whispered.

She bit her lip and shook her head, "No, but there was so much blood, and the guy was hanging from the windshield." She swallowed and wiped her mouth, "I went over…to check him out, you know, see if I could help…but I couldn't find a pulse."

For the first time I noticed the blood on her hands. I immediately wrapped my arms around her again and rocked her. "Okay…it's okay. You did more than most people would have." She nodded against my shoulder.

I pulled away and smiled softly at her, "Why don't we get you cleaned off?" I suggested softly. She nodded and I took her arm gently, leading her into the bathroom. I turned the sink faucet and frowned when it did nothing. There was no sputtering, shuddering, just silence.

We looked at each other and I gave her an encouraging smile. "No worries, I've got some makeup removing wipes that'll work." I grabbed them out of the cupboard and made her sit, wiping her hands off gently.

"What are we going to do Becca?" she whispered.

I paused in cleaning her hands. I looked up and saw the genuine fear in her eyes. "We wait for the power to come back on. I'm sure it'll be back on tomorrow morning or afternoon. It's going to be a big job."

She nodded, smiling faintly.

When I had finished wiping her hands I watched her walk out and then shut the bathroom door behind her, needing a moment.

_What if this was because of Dad? What if the power isn't coming back on? Is it just here in Philly? Christ…._

My mind raced and I closed my eyes, trying to rationalize. They had used whatever code or virus it was half way around the world. This was Philly. This was a blackout. Everything would be normal tomorrow morning.

I nodded and opened my eyes.

Yup, normal.

* * *

I rolled over the next morning, the sun shining brightly into the room. I looked across the small space at Hannah, wondering if she was okay. She had slept fitfully, nightmares of the car crash and the dead man keeping her awake most of the night.

I slid from under the covers and went to the window, peering outside. People were walking around on campus like normal, but they seemed lost, holding their phones out, desperate for them to work.

"Try a little human interaction" I murmured.

"Hnnn-Wha?" I heard Hannah mumble behind me.

Grinning, I turned around and shook my head. "Nothing, just amusing myself at the expenses of the masses."

She grinned at me, brushing her silky black hair back, "Everything is as usual then."

I shrugged and smirked, "Well, except for the lack of power, yea."

She sighed and rolled out of bed to come and stand beside me at the window, staring out at the people below and the darkened city. "Huh. Well. What do you want to do today?" she asked.

I shrugged, "You think the cafeteria is open?" I asked.

"Maybe…we could at least get cereal."

We quickly dressed and made our way down to the cafeteria where we found nearly half the student population, hoarding cereal, fruit and anything else they could get their hands on. Apparently cold dinner leftovers were being served for breakfast, but no one was really complaining at this point. Hannah and I made like everyone else and lined our pockets with plastic bags, taking as much food as possible before heading back to our rooms. As we munched on cereal we debated the pros and cons of the blackout.

"No class" she offered.

"No water" I offered.

"No texts from douchey guys" she said with a laugh.

I grinned and nodded. "No showers."

She frowned, "Why are all yours cons?" she asked.

"Because I'm realistic. It's…I don't know, probably noon or later, and the power isn't back. It's going to take awhile. People are going to start looting stores soon for water, and things aren't going to be good."

Hannah's face grew tense and she looked scared. "A-are you sure?" she asked.

I was. My dad had drummed the worst case scenarios into Eddie and I over the years. This was bad, and could definitely get worse. For her sake though I shook my head. "I just mean that it could be bad. If the governor is smart, he'll declare a state of emergency and send in the National Guard to help."

At her dubious look I smiled, trying to look reassuring, "Don't worry, it's going to be okay."

Right.

* * *

Three days later the cafeteria and our mini fridge was running out of food. Hannah and I were alternating between using our bathroom and the dorm bathroom, but it was getting desperate. My makeup wipes were running low and we both had no idea what to do.

"We can't stay here."

"Where else can we go Becca?"

"I'm going to Joe's. Come with me."

Hannah stared at the floor for a long time and then nodded. I reached out and took her hand, "It's the only safe place in the city I know of. Joe will know what to do."

She nodded and gave me a weak smile. I smiled back, "Okay, let's pack." I stood and grabbed my backpack, emptying it of all my books and notepads. I hesitated over my phone. Setting it down, I turned away and began choosing clothes. Three pairs of jeans, three tank tops, four sweaters, two more bras, and all my underwear and sports bras. Snagging my pepper spray, I slipped the stretchy band it hung on over my wrist after shrugging my jacket on. I only had fifty bucks to my name, but it too went into the backpack, and at the last minute, my phone did too.

I sat and laced up my hiking boots, grateful that I had a decent pair. Eddie and I had taken long hikes together before his deployment, and after he had left I still went, sending him pictures of my climbs.

Now it seemed they would carry me to Joe's and safety.

I shrugged my backpack on and turned to Hannah, frowning when I found her trying to shove a pair of high heels into her backpack.

"Uh Hannah? You really don't need those."

Her hands paused and her shoulders slumped.

She carefully set them aside and then pulled her clothes out, waving a hand at them, "These aren't good either huh?" she asked.

I stepped over and sighed softly. They were all way too nice. "Well, you'll certainly be the nicest dressed hiker." I nudged her arm with mine and smiled when she looked at me. "Don't worry, just grab your shit clothes."

She nodded and quickly went to her closet, grabbing her older jeans and tops. A few minutes later she had her boots on, her backpack swung over her shoulder and we were walking down the hall.

The afternoon was chilly and we took off at a quick pace, keeping close together, trying to avoid large groups. Hannah had never been to Joe's, but she knew where it was from my descriptions. As we got closer, her hand reached out and grabbed my arm, squeezing tightly.

The evidence of looting was apparent in this part of the city, and there were tough looking men roaming the streets, giving us looks that I really, really did not like.

Thankfully Joe's was across the street.

We jogged across the street and I pounded on the door, calling out for Joe. Hannah stood beside me, keeping an eye on the street behind us. I peered through the glass, trying to see if there was movement inside.

"Joe! It's Becca! Come on, let me in!"

Hannah tugged on my arm and I turned. She jerked her chin and I looked across the street to see a trio of men staring at us. "Shit" I murmured.

"What do we do now?" Hannah demanded.

I shook my head, turning back to pound on the door louder. "Goddammit Joe! Open up!" I shouted.

Movement within the building caught my eye and a few moments later I sighed in relief at the familiar sight of Joe's tall figure. He ran forward and opened the door, ushering us in, shotgun in hand, glaring at the men across the street.

When the door closed behind us I wrapped my arms around him, breathing a sigh of relief.

He gave a startled laugh, but one of his arms wrapped around my shoulders. "Hey kid. Glad to see you."

I nodded and stepped back, "You too Joe." I waved to Hannah, "This is Hannah, my best friend."

Joe extended his hand and Hannah blushed but took it. I grinned, knowing she was smitten. He waved and led us towards the back of the building. "Everyone is back here. We were just making plans to move out of the city."

I raised my brows, "Really? Where would you go?" I asked.

He grinned, "My family has a farm about thirty miles from here. There's room for you all if you want to come. It has a well that we can pump, land for growing food, animals. Basically everything we need."

I found myself nodding and then stopped, thinking of my family in DC. "I-I can't. I need to find my family."

Hannah nodded, "Me too."

Joe stared at us for a long moment and then frowned, "Becca, yours are in DC, they've probably still got power, I don't think this has spread that far. Hannah, how about you, where you from?" he asked.

Hannah gulped and flushed, "Uhm…Atlanta."

Joe sighed, "That's a long way. You need to get out of Philly first to find out how far the power outage goes, and then find a way to those places. Do you have that kind of money?" he asked.

I shook my head and Hannah did too. It didn't really matter at this point…the power wasn't coming back on. At least, I suspected it wasn't. I also suspected it wasn't just here in Philly.

"Uhm, Joe, Hannah…I have to tell you guys something." They both looked at me and I took a deep breath. Would they even believe me?

"So…my dad works for the DoD. They were working with this company on a top secret project, a computer virus I guess. It has the power to completely wipe out the power in a complex, permanently."

Joe stared at me, his eyes narrowing. Hannah inhaled sharply. I nodded, "Dad called me four days ago, telling me that he was going to stop the men who had killed Eddie. He said they were going to change the world forever. I called my mom and she told me about the work they were doing, and that he was going to use this weapon."

I looked at both their faces and saw the realization dawning there before I spoke the words, "I don't think this is just Philly. I think…I think this is everywhere. And…" I struggled with the last part.

Joe ran a hand over his face and shook his head. "And it's never coming back on" he whispered.

I nodded and Hannah whirled away, clasping a hand to her mouth. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit" I could hear her whispering.

Joe stared at me, his expression solemn. The moment grew between us until he shook his head, "You can't tell anyone, ever."

I stared at him in shock.

"What? Why?"

"Because kid. Things are gonna go to hell. People don't need to know that our own government did this. They just need to know that they have to survive, and they have to stick together to do it. You got me?" he asked firmly, his blue eyes boring into me.

I could feel the weight of this secret settling onto my shoulders. I nodded slowly and he nodded sharply, "Good."

"What about our families?" I murmured.

He eyed me and then asked wryly, "You really wanna see your old man?"

My shoulders stiffened and I glared at him, "I want to make sure my mom is ok."

He sighed and ran a hand over his shorn head, shaking it. "Okay, tell you what. Come with us to the farm, and then I'll help you get to DC." He looked over at Hannah and nodded, "I'll go with you to Atlanta too kid."

She nodded and smiled faintly. I sighed in relief and smiled at him. "Thanks Joe."

He nodded and waved a hand, "Come on, come meet the crew." We nodded and followed him into the back room where nearly thirty people were either sitting, standing or sleeping. Joe got their attention and introduced us.

"Alright everyone, let's get those packs on and get our feet under us. I want to use as much daylight as possible."

People nodded and soon the room was a flurry of activity. Joe grabbed bottles of water and tossed them to Hannah and I, instructing us to put them in our bags. We quickly obeyed and followed the group to the front of the building.

Joe paused and looked down at us, frowning. "You two got weapons?" he asked softly.

I shook my head, holding up my pepper spray, "Just this, and what you've taught me."

He smiled faintly, "That'll do for now. I'll teach you more." He looked to Hannah who shook her head, her eyes wide at the suggestion that she could posses a weapon. He sighed and dug into his pack, pulling out a small black canister that I recognized as pepper spray.

He handed it to her and went over how to use it quickly. After he was satisfied she wouldn't spray herself in the eyes he nodded and opened the doors, leading us out. Hannah elbowed me and showed me the pepper spray.

"Have you used this before?" she asked.

I nodded, "Joe made me practice. It's easy, just point and spray. It's like hairspray, but so, so much worse."

She cracked a smile and I grinned back.

I looked ahead at Joe, noting that he not only carried a shotgun, but two revolvers, and a knife. Whatever we faced ahead, he was ready.

The question was; were we?

* * *

_**AN: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this story! I recently started rewatching REVOLUTION and I'm like OMG why did this get canceled? Absolute travesty! Anyway, I'm just saying from the start, this isn't Charloe. I love reading me some good Charloe, but this is not! I hope you all will enjoy this Bass/Becca story, and leave me some nice reviews! Thank you!** _


	2. Normal

**September 22nd, 2012- Five days after the blackout**

The early dawn hours found our group rising from a wooded area nearly 25 miles outside of Philly. We had walked through the night until hunger and blisters slowed the group and Joe had called us to a halt.

Hannah and I had huddled together in Joe's tent, my arm wrapped around her waist, Joe's back to mine. I saw the looks that people had given us when we went into the tent, but a few well placed glares from Joe had displaced the whispers.

The morning was freezing, frost lay heavy on the ground as we moved out and chatter was at a minimum from the group. It was only another 7 miles to the farm, but it felt like a million. My legs and feet were aching from all the walking the day before, and the breakfast of a power bar and some scrambled powdered eggs was hardly the meal of champions.

Hannah and I stuck close to Joe, our meager weapons of pepper spray leaving us feeling inadequately prepared for really any attack that could happen.

By mid morning sweat was running down my brow, and my legs were on fire. "How much farther Joe?" I murmured, glancing up at him.

He smiled at me and nudged my arm with his, "We gotta work on that conditioning if you're tired already. It's only another quarter mile."

I nodded, grateful it wasn't much farther.

As we crested a large hill, the farm came into sight. I sighed in relief and no little amount of happiness; it was beautiful. Joe led us up the front stairs and unlocked the door, waving us in. "Spread out guys, there are four bedrooms, and three bathrooms, so let's try and use them well. We have room downstairs in the living room and basement for people to sleep as well."

People nodded and spread out, claiming rooms to share. Hannah and I decided to stay in the living room since we wouldn't be staying for more than a few days to rest and help out before we got on the road again.

I sat down on the floor beside Hannah and pulled my boots and socks off, wincing at the burn of my blisters. I pulled some antibacterial cream out and wiped some on before wrapping clean bandages on and pulling my socks back on.

While Hannah tended to her feet I went to the kitchen and found Joe cleaning out the fridge. I silently moved next to him and began helping, tossing the rotten food out and placing what could be kept on the counter.

"We'll leave in two days. I need to get people here set up and learn how to run this place. It's not hard, but most of them are city rats and have no idea how to do something like this."

I nodded and tossed a moldy package of bacon into the trash, staring at it wistfully. My stomach grumbled loudly and Joe chuckled, tossing me a package of ham lunchmeat. "Here kid, eat."

I looked down at it and frowned, "What about everyone else?" I asked. It wouldn't be right to eat if anyone else couldn't.

Joe shook his head, "Don't worry, it's gonna go bad, and there's not enough there for more than one sandwich. So, grab some bread, and eat."

I nodded slowly and grabbed some whole wheat bread, slathering mustard on and a slice of cheddar. I quickly cut it in half and called out to Hannah who came in the kitchen a moment later. Holding out half the sandwich to her I smiled, "Eat up."

She grinned and took it, wolfing it down just as fast as I did.

Joe smirked at us, "Alright now that you've eaten, I'm going to need your help. Can you clean the fridge out, check the pantry, and coordinate with everyone to bring their supplies in here so we can make a list of what we have and let me know how long you think it's all going to last."

My brow furrowed, "How do we figure that out?"

Joe grabbed a pen and paper, "So, each person is used to eating three meals a day, we have forty people. Everyone will need at least a gallon of water each, and a serving of food a day, at the least. We can use power bars for breakfast, or oatmeal. Take your time, and figure it out."

Hannah and I nodded and each took a pad of paper and pens. Joe smiled at us and stood, "Good, I'm going out to the barns to see how the animals are doing."

I frowned, "How are they alive? I mean…who has been caring for them?" Joe hadn't mentioned his parents or family…so who was caring for this place?

Joe smiled, "Where did you think I lived? In the gym?" he asked with a grin.

I flushed at my ignorance. Of course I hadn't thought of it. Joe grinned, "Don't worry about it kid." He clapped a hand to my shoulder briefly and then strode out the front door.

I exchanged a look with Hannah and sighed, "Well, let's go figure this shit out." She nodded and we spread through the house, letting people know that Joe wanted all supplies in the kitchen for inventory.

There was some grumbling, but eventually everyone passed through and emptied their supplies onto the counter. As Hannah wrote down what they gave us I worked my way through the pantry, taking stock of what we had, and trying to figure out how long it would last for forty people.

I paused…Thirty-seven people once Hannah and I were gone and Joe returned. Sighing, I flipped to a new page and began to calculate how long the food would last, once again. Nearly an hour later Joe came back, sweaty and smelly, but smiling.

He leaned against the counter, "So, how did it go?" he asked.

I sighed and slid the paper across the counter, "I think I figured it out." Hannah nodded and slid her paper to him as well. Joe studied them for a few minutes and then grinned.

"Nice job girls. Very nice. We should be able to feed everyone for at least two weeks from what you've figured out." He studied the numbers for another moment and shook his head, smiling. "Maybe even two and a half weeks if we ration. If we send out a group now and try to get supplies, we'll get more time before winter sets in."

He sighed and then a light came to his eyes, "Wait…the root cellar. I can't believe I didn't think of it. We have canned food, dried meats, and I have MRE's." He shook his head, running a hand over his face, "I should have thought of it. Sorry girls. I'm just tired."

I shook my head, "Don't worry Joe, its fine."

Joe nodded, "Why don't you two go get some rest. I'm going to show the others how to run this place."

Hannah and I nodded and went to the living room, sinking down on the couches. I kicked off my boots and swung my feet up, my eyes closing the instant my head hit the pillow. My breathing slowed, and the exhaustion from the past days caught up to me.

My last thought before my brain slipped into a dreamscape was that I was glad Eddie wasn't there to see this.

* * *

**September 24th, 2012**

Hannah, Joe and I were resting on the side of the road, 15 miles from the farm. It was late afternoon, and it had been raining steadily all day. My limbs felt frozen, despite the fact that I was wearing a sweater, a thermal jacket with a hood, and a baseball cap.

My hands were covered in gloves and still felt stiff. I flexed them as I chewed on jerkey, sipping on water, trying to ration my food. My stomach growled for more, but I knew that I needed to make it all last for the trip to DC.

By Joe's estimations it would take us probably three days of walking to get to my parent's house if we rested and kept up a steady pace. The idea of two more days of walking…I rubbed a hand over my face.

I was already so tired.

I looked over at Hannah and gave her a tired smile. "How you doing?" I murmured.

She smiled weakly and shrugged, "Tired. You?"

I nodded, "Same."

Joe stood and waved a hand at us, "Come on guys, I know you both are tired, but we gotta make a few more miles today." We both groaned softly but stood anyway. I continued to snack on jerkey and stared down the road ahead.

We had passed a few groups of people, but most of them had kept to themselves. A few had asked us where we were going, some had tried to trade with us. Only one had tried following us and stealing our food.

Joe had broken the guy's wrist and punched the other guy in the face. After that they backed off and we moved ahead quickly. I wrapped my arms around my waist, remembering the sound of the man's nose crunching under Joe's fist.

Was this what the world had turned into in just a few days?

The rain began to fall again as we continued to walk, the sky growing darker the farther we progressed. Eventually Hannah began to fall behind, her steps limping and her face drawn in pain.

Joe glanced over his shoulder and frowned, slowing to walk back to her. I could hear them talking softly and after a moment he called up for me to stop. I slowed and leaned gratefully against the traffic barrier, waiting for them to catch up.

Hannah smiled painfully at me as she hobbled up. "Hey, sorry. I just can't go any farther."

I shook my head, "Don't apologize, it's not your fault. You can only do so much in a day." I couldn't blame her, but part of me was still annoyed. I wanted to leave her behind and keep walking. I wanted to find my parents and make sure they were okay.

The idea of leaving my best friend behind me was simultaneously shocking and banal. I knew that if she couldn't keep up, I might have to leave her behind. Things were already falling apart, and I couldn't risk something happening to my mom…my dad would be fine, he was a survivor.

My mom though…she had nearly killed herself after Eddie died. The loss of the entire world, normalcy? It just might be enough to destroy her. I couldn't let her think that I was gone too.

I followed Hannah and Joe further down the road to a turnoff and into a wooded area where Joe set up the tent. He and I quickly got the fire going and dinner ready while Hannah unrolled our sleeping bags and cleaned her blisters, her face lined with pain the whole time.

My heart ached for her, it really did. My own feet were throbbing and my legs were on fire. But I knew we had to keep pushing if we ever wanted to make it home to our families.

She was going to have to toughen up.

* * *

I sat beside the fire, watching the flames while Joe was in the woods relieving himself. Hannah lay in the tent, snoring softly. DC still lay two days away, and I was worried that with no GPS, no way to tell the weather, and no way of knowing where my parents were; we were running into a dead end.

I ran a hand over my face and grimaced at my grimy hands and sweaty face. Quickly digging through my pack I pulled out a wipe and scrubbed my hand, neck and face until I felt cleaner than before, but still I felt like I needed a shower.

It had after all been 5 days since I had taken an actual shower. My hands paused in wiping my neck…if the power never came back…I would never take a shower again. It would only be wipes, creeks, and boiling water over fires for baths.

I shuddered and prayed that someone out there could get the power back on.

Snapping branches alerted me to Joe's return and I looked up to see him crouch under a low hanging branch. He smiled at me before sitting down next to me, his large form pressed against mine, providing extra warmth against the cold breeze that blew.

I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder. "Do you think we'll still make it in three days?" I asked softly.

I could feel him stiffen slightly and then he sighed. "Hannah is having a hard time. A lot of people will. You have to be prepared for that." He turned his chin and looked down at me, his expression serious.

I sighed and lifted my head, staring back. "I understand Joe. I'm just worried about my mom. She lost it after Eddie died. She tried to kill herself, and has been on anti-depressants since then. If she thinks that something has happened to me…" I trailed off and bit my lip.

Joe sighed, "I gotcha kid. We'll hurry."

I nodded and stood, smiling softly down at him. "Why don't I take first watch?" I offered.

Joe shook his head, "Nah, just go sleep. I'll watch and come wake you when I need rest."

I frowned at him and he smiled at me reassuringly, "Don't worry kid; I've had years of no sleep. You need the rest. Get it while you can."

I sighed and shook my head at him, smiling ruefully. I punched his bicep softly, "Thanks Joe. For everything."

He nodded and waved me off, "Go sleep Becca."

I wrapped my jacket around me and crawled into the tent, sliding into the sleeping bag with Hannah, wrapping my arms around her, trying to get warm. As my body thawed, my eyes grew heavy.

As I drifted off to sleep I heard Joe humming softly out by the fire and I smiled.

* * *

**September 25th, 2012**

The next day passed much the same as before, except we made it farther than we had the day before. I had helped Hannah wrap her feet in bandages and secure her ankles tightly so they wouldn't hurt so badly while we walked, and it seemed to have helped.

While we made camp that evening, she and I practiced running through our chemistry, political history, and Russian. We had decided on the road that we wouldn't let our knowledge go to waste, and as such, we took turns quizzing each other.

Joe eventually joined in and surprised us with a vast knowledge of military history, strategic and battle planning skills, and survival skills. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised at his depth of knowledge, he was a Marine after all—I guess it was just how quiet he was all the time.

While Hannah collected firewood and Joe scouted the area nearby I put dinner together. It was nothing more than a mash of and MRE, jerkey, and some wild leeks I had managed to find. It smelled delicious.

Hannah dumped a load of wood beside me and sank down, sniffing appreciatively. "That smells great!" she exclaimed.

"Yea kid, you're getting good at that" Joe commented, emerging from the woods.

I flushed, "Well, it's mostly the MRE doing the work. Eat up." I filled their plates and we all dug in, enjoying our one true meal a day. The rest of the time we enjoyed protein bars, jerkey and water.

I looked down at my body and swallowed. I had gained the "freshman 15" and then a couple more—stress, alcohol, and shitty food did crazy things to your body. But I had never really cared…and neither had my boyfriend.

Now, walking nearly a marathon's distance and more every day, and rationing our food, it was looking like those pounds would be dropping off quickly. I felt tired each morning, and I knew instinctively that my body was going into starvation mode, pulling energy from my fat stores.

It wasn't sustainable, and it wasn't healthy.

"Alright, come on, you both need to learn how to protect yourselves." Joe waved a hand at us until we stood, shaking out our limbs- easing away the soreness from the day.

Joe laid a hand on my shoulder, "I know you think with the things I've taught you that you can protect yourself, and against most people, you probably could. But a lot of people are going to be desperate, have weapons, and some are even going to try and kill you."

His eyes were serious as they held mine and I swallowed hard, his words making my stomach curl. He turned and looked at Hannah, "You have to accept that someone will try and kill you. At that point, you have to fight harder than them to stay alive, and believe with everything inside of you that your life is more important. Otherwise, you'll be the one who dies."

Her eyes were wide as she nodded and Joe sighed, "I'm not trying to make you think everyone is trying to kill you. I just want you to be prepared." He gave us a gentle smile before lifting his hand from my shoulder and filling it with knives from his pack.

He handed one to each of us and kept another for himself. "Okay, now keep a firm grip on the handle. I want you to get used to the weight of it in your hand." He nodded and twirled his knife. I could feel my eyes widening at the sight and I glanced down at my own knife, my stomach sinking.

I would never be that good.

Joe smiled, "Alright, you two face each other, and I'll tell you how to attack each other and ward off attack."

Hannah and I exchanged worried looks but did as Joe instructed, lifting our knives cautiously. He nodded and lifted his knife, showing us a proper grip, which we mimicked. Slowly, he instructed us on how to fight, defend and attack.

He had us fight each other and him until we were barely able to stand and then took the knives, ushering us into the tent. I turned and grabbed his wrist, "Hey, let me take watch." He furrowed his brow and shook his head.

"You guys are wiped, get rest." Joe ordered.

I frowned, "You aren't? Come on, you need rest too."

Joe sighed and smiled at me, "I appreciate that kid, but I've been doing this longer. You get some rest, and I'll let you take watch tomorrow."

I nodded and smiled tiredly at him before crawling into the tent, sinking gratefully into the sleeping bag. My eyes were shut and sleep was dragging me under with its hungry claws before I had zipped it closed.

* * *

**September 27th, 2012**

My feet ached as we walked down Route 95 into DC. The sun had finally come out, and it was warmer than it had been the last two days. I turned my face up to the sun and sighed happily, enjoying the warmth.

The farther south we came the more apparent it became that the power outage was widespread, and the feeling that the power was out everywhere grew stronger.

Hannah and Joe walked ahead of me, discussing plans for how to get to Atlanta. She had grown more worried as we walked that the power would be out and she would be unable to get a car, train or airplane to make her way home.

I couldn't blame her. It seemed that everywhere we looked people were becoming more desperate, and more stores and homes were being looted. It made my stomach churn with worry. We were less than a few hours from my parents' house by Joe's estimations and I was growing afraid that anything we would find would be terrible.

* * *

The first thing I saw as we crested the hills above the community my family lived in was smoke, billowing upwards. My stomach clenched and my feet stuttered, bringing me to a halt. I stared down at the smoke and devastation, my mind awhirl, and jumped when Hannah's hand clenched firmly around mine.

I looked up at her, my face stiff, and gripped her hand back. "It's going to be okay" she whispered. I nodded numbly, trying to have hope.

Joe gave me a sympathetic look and led us quickly down the roads to the large gate of the community. My stomach sunk further…

The large iron gates hung wide open.

I took off, sprinting to my house. I could hear Joe and Hannah calling out my name behind me, but I couldn't stop. My feet flew, pounding into the pavement. House after house passed by—doors hanging open, possessions strewn out on lawns, smoke streaming from windows.

I skidded around the corner and came to a grinding halt. The front door to my house hung wide open.

Fear pounded through my veins, heady and sickening.

Hannah and Joe caught up to me, their steps echoing loudly in my ears.

I couldn't move, could barely breathe enough air into my lungs.

I barely felt Hannah's hand on my arm.

"Becca?" she whispered.

I shook her arm off and walked forward, my heart pounding painfully in my chest, my stomach roiling painfully. My fingers trailed up the railing of the steps and I remembered chasing Eddie up them so many times it made my heart hurt.

The breeze made the porch swing creak and I could picture our parents swinging on it, watching us run in the front yard, chasing fireflies.

The sight of a bloody handprint marring the door's pristine paint made my stomach turn. I could still clearly remember my mother picking out the perfect shade of eggshell blue. Now it was smeared with red handprints.

I couldn't move.

If I went inside, everything would change. Nothing would ever be normal again.

_Normal_

_Normal_

_Normal_

The word pounded in my head.

Who was I kidding? Nothing was ever going to be normal again, whether I went through the door or not.

I stepped forward slowly and heard Hannah and Joe behind me. It looked like the house had been ransacked, but only after someone had carefully cleared out our food and few medicines. My feet trudged slowly up the carpeted stairs, my stomach twisting at the smears of blood on the walls and carpet.

The bloody marks lead down the hall to my parent's bedroom.

Pushing open the door, I tried to prepare myself for what lay behind the door, feeling sick. The sight of the bloody sheets on their bed sent me reeling backwards, heaving. I fell to my knees, sobbing and retching.

Hannah's arms wrapped around me, her soft, comforting words washing over me in a haze as I sobbed.

"Becca, look at this." Joe crouched in front of me, holding something out for me to see. I took deep breaths, trying to steady myself. When my vision finally cleared of tears, I saw it was a note, written in my father's hand.

_Becca,_

_If you find this, I am so sorry. Your mother is gone. She was not strong enough. I know you are strong, just like your brother. You must get out of the city, and find someplace safe to stay. I will come back for you._

_Love,_

_Dad_

I stared at the letter in shock.

My father had abandoned me.

My mother was dead.

Something inside me went cold, hard.

I stood and stared at Hannah and Joe, wiping my cheeks off. "We should go. It's a long walk to Atlanta."

I walked slowly down the hall, feeling their eyes on me.

"Are you okay Becca?" Hannah asked, her footsteps hurried, catching up to me.

"I'm fine."

We walked out the front door and out of the community, the silence growing larger between us.

_I'm fine._

_I'm fine._

_I'm fine._

If you repeat a lie often enough, it'll become the truth.


	3. Atlanta

**September 30th, 2012**

We were nearly to Atlanta. The weather had continued to be as changeable as a cat's mood as we walked, sunny and warm one day, rainy and cold the next. We had even walked through snow flurries at one point.

Nothing could touch the pain and anger I felt inside though. I knew Hannah and Joe were worried, they weren't exactly subtle about their looks or comments. I tried to care…but the anger and pain were overwhelming.

I could smell the smoke from our campfire as I walked through the woods, hunting for berries, roots, and wild onions—anything to add to our supplies. I crouched down and pulled out a handful of wild onions from the ground, shoving them in my bag.

Rustling in the branches nearby made me still, the hairs on my neck standing up. I pulled my knife out of its holster and palmed it, listening intently. The branches rustled again and I grabbed the strap of my backpack, slipping it over my shoulder slowly.

Standing slowly, I began walking back towards camp, the knife still gripped in my hand, an uneasy feeling curling through my stomach.

When a large man stepped out of the brush and into the path in front of me, a sick feeling slipped through me. He grinned, a twisted, leering look, and sauntered forward until we were just feet apart.

"Well, how are you tonight missy?" he drawled, his eyes raking over my body.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, "I was fine. You're in my way now though."

His smile slipped and he shook his head, "You should be more polite, I'm just trying to talk to ya."

I frowned, "I don't want to talk to you. Now get out of my way." I glared at him, anger ripping through my veins.

The man's expression turned ugly and I heard a rustling noise behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I saw another man step from the trees, holding a gun. I turned back to the man in front of me and lifted my empty hand, "Just let me go. You don't want trouble."

The man laughed, "Oh honey, I like trouble." He stepped forward and I heard the man behind me move. My instincts kicked in and I lashed out and the man before me, swinging a fist towards his face.

By some miracle my fist connected with his jaw, sending him reeling back a few surprised steps. I took the opportunity to run. My feet flew over the grass, carrying me through the woods. I could hear the men shouting behind me, incensed vitriol echoing through the woods.

Their footsteps grew louder behind me and I sped up, desperate to get back to camp…. _Where Hannah and Joe are._

My feet faltered.

I couldn't lead them back to camp and have my friends get hurt. I swerved and headed west, away from camp. My backpack bounced against my back, my fingers still clenched tightly around the knife.

The world shifted on its axis as I went flying through the air. The ground slammed into me…or I slammed into it, I couldn't tell. Everything hurt and it felt like there was a mountain of weight on me…

The weight shifted and I felt hot breath on my neck. "Not so fast bitch."

I struggled, hard. My elbow connected with the man's sternum and I brought my knee up into his groin, struggling to crawl away as he groaned and curled up. Panic made me jerky, spastic. I scrambled to rise, my breathing rapid, barely aware of the panicked noises I was making.

A hand clamped around my ankle, yanking me back down to the ground. I screamed, loud and long until one of the men stood over me and put his boot on my throat. It was the man I had kneed.

The other man crouched over me, grinning. He ripped the backpack from my shoulder and tossed it to his partner. "Thank you for your generosity darlin."

He ran his fingers down my throat and unzipped my jacket, fondling my breasts. I struggled against him, trying to kick and free myself. He backhanded me hard and I gasped, tasting blood.

"Now darlin, why don't you try to be a little more friendly?" he demanded.

The pumping of a shotgun is a distinctive sound, and at that moment, it was perhaps the most beautiful sound I had ever heard in my life.

"She isn't your friend, and neither am I. Now back the fuck up before I kill you."

I tilted my chin and watched as Joe stared the men down. They both lifted their hands, cautious looks crossing their faces.

"Get up Becca" Joe ordered.

I shoved the man's boot at my throat away and stood slowly, my head spinning from being pounded into the ground and oxygen deprivation. I stumbled to Joe's side and stood there, eyeing my knife in the grass by one of the men's boots.

"Go back to camp" he murmured.

"Hell no" I snapped. There was no way I was leaving him by himself.

He growled softly but shook his head, turning his attention back to the men.

"Now, I want her pack back. Toss it over here, and leave." Joe's voice was firm as he gave the men orders.

One of the men smirked, "I think we'll keep the pack and let you keep her, she seems like more trouble than she's worth."

Joe shook his head, "I don't think so. You're going to toss that pack here, and leave, or I'll kill you both."

The man narrowed his eyes, "See I don't think you will mister. You just don't seem the type to pull the trigger."

I wanted to laugh. These men had no idea who Joe was, or what he had done. He had been a Marine for decades before the power went out, and now, he was fighting to survive.

Joe's grip on the shotgun changed and he smiled.

The men should have known then what was coming, but they were too stupid to see it coming. The shotgun roared and one of the men dropped. The other man stared at his partner in shock and then reached for his own weapon.

Joe pumped another round and fired.

The second man fell to the ground.

As the gunpowder cleared from the air I walked over slowly, looking in the grass for my knife. One of the men groaned and shifted, inching towards me.

"Stupid…fucking…bitch" he groaned.

His fingers inched towards my knife, and I lunged forward, snatching it away from him. He cursed me, blood bubbling out of his mouth, trying to rise to his feet before collapsing back to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

I stared down at him, rage making my skin crawl. Without thinking, my foot snapped back and then connected sharply with the fallen man's jaw, sending his head reeling back. Something inside me cracked at the sensation and I brought my foot back again, kicking him again.

Joe's strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me away. Through a haze I could hear myself screaming, and Joe's voice murmuring, "Hush Becca…shhhh."

I thrashed and fought, tears streaming down my face. Joe held me tighter and made soft hushing noises until I collapsed, sobbing against his shirt. My heart was thundering against my ribs as the storm inside me raged, contained within Joe's arms.

As my tears abated I stood straight and wiped my face, sniffling.

Joe grabbed my chin and tilted my face upwards, his face stormy and his jaw clenched in anger. "Becca! What were you thinking?" he demanded.

I wrested my face free and stumbled backwards, glaring at him, "What the hell does that mean Joe? I was just out gathering food for us!" I waved my hand at the two dead men, "They came out of nowhere and attacked me. It's not like I went looking for trouble!"

Joe rolled his eyes, "Right, you didn't stray too far from camp? I told you to go no farther than whistling distance! You were almost a mile away!"

The anger flared again, and I clenched my fists. "So it's my fault they attacked me?" I shrieked.

Joe shook his head, "No Becca, but you know the type of people that are on the road. I told you not to go too far because it's not safe. You could have been killed."

I threw up my hands, angrier than before, "I could be killed tonight while we sleep! Joe! We have no idea what is going to happen!"

Joe ran a hand over his face, "You're right, we have no idea what is going to happen, but that doesn't mean you take unnecessary risks by going too far from camp."

I stared at him sullenly and finally nodded, "Okay."

Joe sighed and shook his head, "We need to go back. Hannah shouldn't be alone."

I pointed to the men, "What about them?" I asked.

Joe lifted a brow giving me a quizzical look, "What about them?"

I frowned, "Their campsite might not be far. We could strip it for supplies."

Joe stared at me for a moment and then frowned. He pondered something and then nodded, "We should go back to camp first. I want to pack up everything. We'll find their place, clean it out, and move on. There's been too much activity here tonight."

I nodded and followed him silently through the trees, the moonlight overhead guiding us. When we broke through the brush, Hannah gasped, a gun grasped tightly in her hands. Joe walked quickly to her side and took it from her, murmuring softly.

I saw her glancing over his shoulder, eyes wide.

I ignored them and washed my hands off, scrubbing the dirt and blood away.

We quickly packed our camp up and poured water over the fire, raking the ashes to make sure it was out. Joe led us through the forest, following some trail that neither of us could see until we came upon another campfire.

There were two tents, and a stockpile of food and guns. We quickly set about divvying up the supplies, working quietly and efficiently. When we were done Joe led us through the woods and along the road.

We walked for miles in the dark, the moon the only guiding light we had.

The adrenaline had begun to wear off and my yawns were coming thick and fast when I heard a sharp yell behind me. I spun, drawing my knife, looking for trouble.

Hannah was crumpled on the side of the road, clutching her leg. In the dark she hadn't seen a weak spot in the dirt that had sent her tumbling down the side of the embankment. I scrambled down the hill after her, tucking my knife away.

When I got to her side I saw tears streaming down her cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked softly, trying to see in the pale light where she was hurt.

Hannah pointed to her ankle and whispered, "I can't put pressure on it." I looked up and saw blood in her mouth and frowned.

"Why is your mouth bleeding?" I asked worriedly.

She touched her lip and frowned, appearing dazed. "I-I must have bit my tongue when I fell" she murmured.

I nodded and looked over at Joe who had made his way down as well. "Should we take her boot off?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Keeping it on will maintain some pressure on it until we can get her settled. We need to get further down the road. You and I will support her."

I nodded and we each took an arm, lifting her slowly. Joe and I helped Hannah up the embankment, inch by painful inch. The next three miles took us two hours, and by the time we came to a suitable place to camp, the sun was starting to come up.

Joe and I got the tent ready and while I cooked something to eat, he sat beside Hannah and eased her boot off.

"It's not broken, but you won't be able to walk on it for at least a week. I'll find a stick so you can hobble along. We're not going to make it to Atlanta for awhile. We need to let you rest."

Hannah shook her head, "No we need to keep going."

Joe frowned, "If you don't rest it, you'll make it worse. And now, we can't take you to a hospital. So we're going to rest for a few days. Okay?"

Hannah looked sick, but nodded.

Joe stood and nodded at us, "Okay, I'm going to go find a suitable stick for Hannah. Becca, please finish dinner and stay on guard."

I gave him a faint nod and continued working on dinner, watching him walk away out of the corner of my eye. Hannah shifted uncomfortably on the ground next to me and I turned to give her a sympathetic smile, "Can I get you some painkillers, water, anything?"

She stared at me for a moment and then rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "No Becca, I'm fine." Her voice was sharp and sarcastic.

My eyes narrowed at her tone and stirred the food over the fire. "What's wrong Hannah?" I asked.

She sighed and shook her head, "Not a damn thing."

"Really? Because it sure seems like you're pissed."

She turned and glared at me, "Oh? Does it? Maybe because you can't listen to Joe and stay close to camp, so you got into a fight with those assholes, and made Joe kill them. Did you think about how that affects Joe? He had to kill two people Becca."

I stared at her in shock. I really hadn't given it much thought.

Mostly because Joe hadn't talked about it, and hadn't seemed upset by his actions. If he had wrung his hands or expressed remorse, I guess I would have felt…something. Mostly I was glad I was alive.

I sighed, "Hannah…I wasn't trying to put myself or Joe in danger. I certainly wasn't trying to get him to kill those men. It just happened."

Hannah shook her head, "I know that. But you've been acting recklessly ever since we left DC. You're freaking me out."

I stared down into the flames and didn't speak. What could I say? That every time something dangerous happened it actually made me feel something? Hannah would think I was crazy, or sick.

"I'm sorry if I've scared you" I murmured. It didn't really matter if I didn't believe the words. It only mattered that she needed to hear them.

I scooped food out into a bowl and handed it to her, smiling faintly. She studied my face for a moment and then nodded, smiling back. "It's okay. You've been through some crazy shit. But we all have, and we have to stick together. Okay?" she urged.

I nodded, giving her a false smile, hoping it was bright enough to lure her into a false sense of security. Apparently it was because she smiled brighter.

Joe came back a moment later, holding up a long straight stick. He tossed it down beside Hannah and took the bowl of food I offered gratefully. When they had finished I took their bowls, cleaning them out.

"You guys should get some rest" I urged.

Joe started to shake his head but I gave him a look and he raised a brow at me. "Just go get some rest Joe. It's my fault we didn't last night, so you guys go lay down. I'll take watch for awhile, and when I can't stay up, I'll come get you."

He stared at me for a minute before nodding, and turned to help Hannah into the tent. Her face was white with pain and when she had settled in; I heard the pill bottle rattle. It wasn't long before I heard both of them snoring, and I cracked a smile.

I sat down with Joe's shotgun and set about cleaning it, taking my time until I had taken it apart, cleaned it, and put it back together. When I had finished that, I cleaned my knife. The boredom of being on watch was something I had come to learn to live with, and I unrolled my pack, taking out my dirty clothes.

Lifting my map out, I scoured the pages until I figured out where we were. After some searching, it appeared that there was a creek two miles away. It would be amazing to wash my clothes, but that was too far away to go while both Joe and Hannah were sleeping.

I sighed, annoyed.

Shoving the dirty clothes back in my pack, I stood and walked the perimeter of our camp, studying the brush for any sign of edible plants. I crouched down, picking some wild mustard leaves.

I turned and stared back at the tent, hesitating. I wouldn't go too far.

I stepped into the trees and continued to look for anything edible, always keeping the campsite within eye site. After an hour I had enough for a salad to go with our MRE. I trudged back to camp, shivering as a cold breeze blew through the trees.

As I brushed the dirt off the leaves and made sure there weren't any bugs on them, Joe came out of the tent. I glanced up and frowned at him. "You need more sleep than that" I murmured.

He yawned and nodded, "Probably, but you need rest too." He looked down at the leaves I had gathered and sighed. "Looks like you found some salad" he observed.

I nodded, "All within eye sight." I glanced up at him, waiting to see if he would yell, and when he just gave me a wry smile, I ducked my head and continued to brush them off.

He sat down next to me and took a handful, helping me clean them off, working quietly.

"You had to kill two men because of me" I commented, not looking up. I could sense Joe stilling beside me.

"Yea, I did."

"How do you feel about it?" I asked softly.

He looked up at me and I turned my chin to meet his gaze. His brow was furrowed as he asked, "Do you mean do I feel remorse?"

I nodded.

"I took life Becca, you should always feel remorse about that. I do. But they were going to kill you, and I wasn't going to let that happen. If I had let them go, they would have followed us and killed us. They didn't leave me many options."

I swallowed hard, "That's what I thought too. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy…or, or, sick."

Joe's eyes grew sad, "No kid. You aren't. You never should have had to learn about thinking this way, but the world isn't what it used to be. Now everyone is learning what it means to survive in hell. People are either going to shine brighter, or let out their inner demons."

I looked down at the ground, my heart thumping painfully. "How do you know what you're doing is right?" I asked.

Joe reached out and touched my shoulder softly and I looked back up. He smiled softly at me, "Because kid, you're one of the people with a bright light inside you. Let that goodness guide you, that gut instinctual feeling, and you won't go wrong."

I nodded, but deep down, I was worried he was wrong. My light had broken. All the lights were broken now.

* * *

**October 3rd, 2012**

Hannah was hobbling around our camp, testing her weight on her ankle, using her walking stick. Joe was by her side, making sure she didn't hurt herself, and I was heading to the creek to wash our dirty clothing.

It had rained, and then snowed, and finally today had warmed up above freezing enough that I thought it would be possible for me to get to the creek and safely wash our clothing. As I knelt by the creek, the freezing water soaked into my jeans, biting into my skin.

I hissed and quickly began scrubbing the clothing, yelping at the bite of the cold water on my hands. By the time I was done my hands were red and the clothes were stiff in the cold air. I staggered back to camp, my limbs shaking.

Joe caught sight of me and shook his head, striding forward to snatch the mass of wet clothing from my arms.

"D-don't you d-dare t-toss that in the d-dirt" I ordered. He rolled his eyes but nodded turning and setting them inside the tent. He grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around me, forcing me to sit as close to the fire as one could get without catching fire.

I shuddered and closed my eyes; the feeling of pins and needles over my entire body was decidedly unpleasant. When I opened them, Joe was hanging our clothes on a line of rope that he had hung between two trees near the fire.

Hannah staggered back and forth, helping him. She shook her head at me, smiling faintly. "You look blue" she commented wryly.

"You look drunk" I snarked back.

She laughed, "I haven't been drunk in weeks. Man what I wouldn't give for a beer."

I nodded and closed my eyes again, leaning towards the fire, "Mmm, or hot cocoa with Bailey's."

"Yes! Or mulled apple cider."

Joe laughed, "You ladies are making me thirsty."

I opened my eyes and smiled at them, "Well, there is a creek not too far away if anyone is interested. It's icy fresh." Both Joe and Hannah gave me looks that told me I wasn't that funny, and I smirked, wrapping the blanket tighter around me.

I coughed softly and wished I had a mug of tea more than anything else. As the heat from the fire thawed me out, I coughed harder. I frowned and tucked my chin, covering my mouth as a coughing fit overtook me.

Joe looked up, concern written on his face.

I shook my head, "I'm fine. It's just from the cold."

He shook his head and pointed to the tent, "Go lay down." I opened my mouth to argue, but at the look on his face, I decided that it would perhaps be better to just crawl inside the tent and close my eyes.

When I was tucked in the sleeping bag, the blanket pulled up to my nose, I sighed. It was so much warmer than I had expected….

A few minutes later I began to drift…

* * *

**October 4th, 2012**

I slept until the next day. When I got up I felt worse, my head pounded, and my cough wouldn't go away. I layered on two sweaters, and tried to forage for more food, but when I got dizzy and threw up in the middle of the woods, I made my way, slowly, back to camp.

Joe took one look at my face and forced me to eat and drink, handing me ibuprofen. "You can't get sick. We don't have the resources." His face was lined with worry, and though I reassured him it was just a cold, it didn't feel like it.

As my cough got worse, I began to strip off sweaters. Was it just me or was it hot?

Hannah grabbed my arm, "What are you doing? It's freezing out!"

I stared at her through hazy eyes, "But I'm hot" I murmured.

She shook her head, "You need to put that back on. You probably have a fever, and you need to stay warm."

That didn't make sense…if I had a fever, I was already warm…shouldn't I cool down? I stumbled backwards and tried to take off another sweater. My head spun, and I collapsed.

The light faded from the sky.

"Shit! Joe!"

"What happened?"

"She collapsed, I think she has a fever. She feels really hot."

"Okay, well, let's give her some ibuprofen and that should help. We need to keep her hydrated too."

I heard Hannah and Joe talking, but I couldn't open my eyes, they felt like they were each weighed down with a ton of lead.

"Becca? Can you open your mouth? I need to give you some ibuprofen and water." A hand on my neck lifted my head and my mouth opened compliantly. I felt the pills on my tongue and a moment later the water spilled into my mouth like rain onto a desert.

I swallowed and gasped….my throat felt like it was on fire. I began to cough, wheezing and gasping.

"Shit I think she's choking!" Joe's strong arms lifted me and turned me onto my side, easing the air into my lungs.

I collapsed in his arms, my breath wheezing in and out, each breath painful.

"That doesn't sound good. Her breathing? It sounds like pneumonia."

"Pneumonia? How did it develop so quickly Joe?"

"I have no idea. But she can't stay here. She needs real medicine."

Pneumonia…that was bad. I breathed in and out…feeling as though each breath ripped my lungs apart. I tried to stay awake…but the demon inside me burned…

* * *

**October 6th, 2012**

Something cool and wet landed on my face. I struggled to open my eyes.

The grey sunlight pierced my eyes and I winced, shutting them again.

Snow.

That was why it felt nice.

I could feel myself moving.

I cracked my eyes open again and saw Joe's face above mine.

He was carrying me.

I closed my eyes.

That was nice of him.

**October 7th, 2012**

"Please, can you help her? She has pneumonia."

"Sir, do you see all these other patients? She'll have to wait."

"Doctor, you don't understand. We've been walking for three days to get here. I don't think she can wait longer."

….

"Alright, follow me."

I felt Joe set me down on something soft, and then a new set of hands began touching me. I tried to open my mouth to protest, but the most I could do was cough and moan. I couldn't even open my eyes.

"You're right, she has pneumonia. It's extremely advanced. I'll give her treatment, but just know, she might not make it."

"Thank you."

* * *

**October 9th, 2012**

My eyes fluttered open. I turned my head slowly and found Joe sitting beside my bed, watching me. He smiled softly and I smiled back.

"Good to see that smile kid."

"You too" I whispered.

I looked around the room and frowned, "Where's Hannah?"

He sighed, "We're outside Atlanta, in her hometown. She found her parents. But she's been by to check on you."

I nodded, but still felt a pang of loss. She was lucky they were okay. Joe's eyes softened, understanding my feelings.

I shifted in the bed and sat up, "So, pneumonia, huh? How am I doing?" I asked.

He smiled, "A lot better. They gave you an IV of concentrated meds, and said when you woke up we could have them to go. We can leave when they say."

I nodded, "I'm ready when you are." I was eager to get out of the hospital and back to the farm. If Hannah and her family wanted to come with us, all the better. "Will they come with us?" I asked.

Joe shrugged, "Hannah isn't sure. They have family here."

I nodded, feeling the sadness spread. I pushed the blankets down and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, standing. I was only slightly unsteady. "We should go find out."

Joe gave me a wary look and then sighed, "Kid. You almost died on the way here. Why don't you stay with your friend?"

I stared at him; shock and anger pulsing through me. "Because you're my friend too Joe. I'm not leaving you to walk all that way by yourself."

He regarded me for a moment and then shook his head, smiling. "You're a good woman Becca. Alright. Let's go find Hannah."

I nodded and then looked down, grinning. "How about some pants first?"

* * *

_**AN: Please review! I hope to hear from some of those that are reading! Thank you!** _


	4. Home?

**October 11th, 2012**

Rain streamed down the windows of Hannah's parent's house and I pulled my jacket tighter around me. Joe and I were going to get on the road this morning, but when the sky had darkened and the rain had started, he had insisted on waiting.

"It's not worth risking your health" he had said.

I couldn't exactly blame him; I was still weak after my near miss with the pneumonia. The clinic that Joe had taken me to had been miraculously still open, but was only taking large bribes to help people.

To get the medicine they had given me had cost us all of our cash. The longer the power stayed off, the worse things were going to get. I knew it instinctually, and Joe knew it from seeing it in combat in countries that had been torn apart by mad despots and our own crazed desire for justice and the need to spread democracy.

Hannah and her family had decided that they were going to stay in their small development and wait out the worst of the blackout—they were expecting that the power would be coming back on.

I had pulled Hannah aside and told her that she needed to tell them the truth, but she had shaken her head at me, frowning. "I can't do that to them Becca. They defected here from North Korea, and they implicitly trust the United States government. If I tell them that the power isn't coming back on and it's because our own government did this…" she had trailed off and shook her head, giving me a worried look.

I sighed at the recollection. I couldn't blame her for wanting her parents to feel secure, but it was a lie. The power wasn't coming back, and they needed to be prepared for that.

I stared out at the rain and wondered how many people were staying in their homes, patiently waiting for rescue that wasn't ever coming. How many were already dead from starvation or looters? How many had killed themselves?

The image of my bloodstained home flashed before me and I closed my eyes, my fingers tightening on my jacket until they were white.

I was an orphan.

My whole family was either dead or gone.

Pain and pressure built in my chest until it worked its way up, a sob ripping out of my throat, tears streaming down my face. I buried my face in my arms and wept; for the loss of my brother, my mother, and my father—who had been too concerned with his own life to stay and look for me.

Anger, pain, loss, disgust…they swirled inside of me like a raging storm.

I cried until my chest ached and my sobs quieted, my head pounding. I lifted my head and wiped my cheeks, feeling the storm inside cool and settle, the anger and disgust towards my father settling like a viper in my belly.

I brushed my hair back, pulling it up into a ponytail. Sighing, I stood and went to find Joe. We needed to get on the road tomorrow morning, rain or no.

* * *

**October 12th, 2012**

Joe and I walked up the highway, both of us quiet. Despite the grey sky I wore sunglasses, hiding my puffy, red eyes.

Hannah and I had cried as we had parted, despite our determination to be strong. She had held me tight and whispered, "Don't take risks. Let Joe protect you. Get home safe. I love you."

I had nodded and when I had pulled away had stared her firmly in the eye, murmuring, "Get your family out of here. It's not safe and you know it." She had given me a sad smile but had nodded, halfheartedly.

It terrified me.

She could die, and there was nothing I could do, no way to help her, and no way I would know what had happened.

I could only keep moving forward, keep helping Joe get back to the farm. We had no idea if things were okay there, but it was remote enough that he was confident that everyone would be safe there.

* * *

As we made our way down an off ramp to begin looking for a spot to sleep, I paused, hearing noise ahead. Joe tilted his head and then frowned. I looked up at him, "What is it?" I whispered.

He shook his head and waved a hand, pointing back up the ramp. He turned and began jogging back up it, leaving me to either stand and stare after him or follow. With a sigh I jogged after him and we jogged nearly a mile down the road before he slowed.

I panted and glared at him, "What the hell?"

Joe frowned, "Sorry kid, but you heard the sound of a fight back there. At least three people, possibly more. There wasn't a vantage point for me to see and I'm not about to walk you into a violent group."

I sighed and nodded, "Thanks for that. What now?"

He pointed to a sign a few feet down the road that indicated another exit was five miles away. I sighed and nodded, starting down the road. We stayed quiet for the next five miles, not knowing who was on the road, or how close to the road they were.

We went down the exit with caution, listening for signs of other people. Joe nodded and waved for me to follow him, leading me down the street of a small town. It looked abandoned, but appearances could be deceiving.

Joe walked us to an abandoned, half crumbling house on the outskirts of town and pushed the door open. We quickly moved through the house, making sure it was empty before making camp. We ate cans of beans and fruit for dinner, not wanting to risk a fire, despite the chill.

I shuddered against the chilly air and slid into my sleeping bag, desperate to be warm. Joe leaned against the doorframe, watching the road. He smiled faintly down at me.

"Sleep kid. I'll wake you in a few for your shift."

I nodded and closed my eyes.

What felt like minutes later Joe was shaking me awake. "Your shift."

I nodded and crawled out of the sleeping bag, leaving it for Joe. He handed me a cup of cold coffee and I gave him a bleary look of gratitude.

"How did you do that?"

He smiled, "Magic."

I smirked, nodding. Sipping on it, I stared out the window, keeping an eye on the road as Joe fell asleep. The hours slipped by slowly, leaving me bored, tense, and anxious. I ran through my Russian, murmuring phrases softly, eventually devolving into a mindless conversation with myself.

As the sun began to light the sky, turning it pink and orange, I went to Joe and shook him awake. This time I had the satisfaction of handing him an opened can of peaches and a protein bar.

"Bless you" he murmured as he wolfed down his breakfast. He eyed me, "What about you?"

"I already ate"

He nodded and finished quickly, gathering up his things. We headed out and made our way back up to the highway, startling a small herd of deer into flight. We continued down the highway, enjoying the sun on our faces.

As we walked I spied something in the distance. There was something on the large overhead sign…I squinted but couldn't make out what it was.

We approached and I gasped in horror.

Hanging from the overhead sign was a man. His face was a livid purple-black and his hands were tied behind him. Birds circled him, tearing pieces of flesh from his body. The breeze blew, sending the scent of rotting meat and waste towards us.

My stomach turned and I spun, retching.

I heard Joe moving behind me, the sound of a knife sawing through rope and then the sudden heavy thud of the body falling to the ground. I shuddered and wiped my face, the cold sweat that had broken out on my face chilling me.

Joe's hand came to rest on my shoulder. "You okay?" he asked softly.

I shook my head no, "What happened to him?" I asked, even though it was plain what had happened. I straightened and looked up at Joe.

He frowned, "This must have been one of the people we heard. It didn't end well."

I nodded and looked around, worried that whoever had done it was still around. "You think they're still here?" I asked.

Joe shook his head, "No, we're okay. But we need to move on."

I nodded sharply and we began walking again, quicker this time, the sight of the dead man making us both edgy.

When we had made it another five miles down the road another giant sign loomed.

I froze.

"Jesus Christ" Joe murmured, shaking his head.

A woman was strung up on this one. She was naked and looked as though she had been abused terribly.

My hands clenched into fists.

Joe looked over at me and I could see a glimpse of the soldier there. His shoulders squared. "We're getting off this road" he commanded.

I nodded, happily taking the order. We began walking, but paused for Joe to cut the woman down and cover her with a spare blanket from his pack. He led me down an exit ramp and to a gas station that had been abandoned and ransacked.

Pulling a map out we looked to see where we were, and how we could adjust our route. We had only been on the road for two days, and were outside Charlotte, North Carolina.

After a few minutes Joe found an alternate road for us to take. It would add two days of walking to our trip by his estimations, but to avoid whoever was killing people and stringing them up on the highway, it was worth it.

* * *

**October 14th, 2012**

I shivered in my sleeping bag, watching snow fall outside the window of the abandoned house we had taken refuge in. The previous day it had begun to get steadily colder, the sky darkening as we walked, and by evening snow was falling lightly.

Joe had frowned, but had deemed it safe enough to camp in our tent. We had huddled together for warmth as the temperature had plunged further, and neither of us slept well. Finally, as the sky grew lighter, Joe had forced us back onto the road to search out a house.

We had stumbled into a small town and had carefully scouted for a place to stay until we had found a home that looked abandoned. I had seen movement in other houses, but no one came out to stop us from entering.

Joe had set up the tent inside the house and had pulled nearly every blanket he could find into it to create a nest. Others were draped on the outside, creating barrier against the cold. He was inside now, sleeping.

It was my turn on watch, and I only had about thirty minutes left. We were running low on food, and the house was mostly picked over. I tried to ignore the aching sensation in my stomach, and the fact that I was tightening my belt each morning.

We were still passing bodies on the side of the road, though it seemed like some were dead from starvation and exposure, not violent means. It was no less startling to see.

We were still nearly a week from Joe's farm, and I knew that the farther north we went, the worse the weather would get. It was October, and I was worried about what winter would bring to the farm.

The back porch creaked and I turned, peering towards the back of the house, listening intently. I couldn't hear anything other than the soft sound of the snow falling. The porch creaked again and I stood, walking cautiously toward the sound.

I peered out the window and frowned, not seeing anything. It was just the cold and snow making the wood creak. I walked into the kitchen and stared forlornly into the pantry once again. Apparently whoever had lived here had taken all the food with them.

I reached out and grabbed a box of Pop-Tarts, cringing.

All the food except the shitty stuff. Chips, pretzels, Pop-Tarts, candy…nothing nutritional. Despite the lack of nutritional value I ripped open the pack of peanut butter Pop-Tarts and began eating them, my stomach rumbling in approval.

The door to the back porch blew open, snow swirling in as three men burst into the kitchen. I stared at them wide eyed, too startled to scream. We stared at each other for an instant before instinct took over and I sprinted for the living room, shouting for Joe.

I could hear the men pursuing me and knew I had only seconds to grab a weapon. My hands fumbled for a gun and as Joe stumbled from the tent, 9mm in hand, I came up with the shotgun. We came face to face with the men, the couch and a few feet separating us.

The men stared at us cautiously, hands in the air, all of them devoid of weapons. I still didn't trust them not to have weapons concealed. For all we knew these were the men who had been stringing people up on the highway.

I gripped the shotgun tighter and glared at them.

"What do you want?" Joe demanded.

One of the men stepped forward slightly and Joe shook his head, raising his gun to focus on the man. The man nodded and stepped back.

"We were just looking for shelter from the storm man. This place looked abandoned from the outside and we didn't look too carefully at the inside."

Joe frowned, "You could see our things from the front window. I don't believe you."

The man pointed over his shoulder, "We came from that direction, and we weren't looking too hard, we just wanted to get inside."

"And what were you going to do to the girl?" Joe demanded.

"Nothing man, we were just startled. We were worried she had weapons, which, clearly she does."

The man glanced between Joe and I and a leering look appeared on his face, "You hitting that man?" he asked, laughing.

Joe made a soft noise of anger and stepped forward, cutting off the man's laughter. "No. She's my daughter. If you want your eyeballs to stay in your head, stop looking at her like that."

The man nodded and raised a hand, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense."

Joe snorted but nodded. The man lowered his hands and smiled in what I suppose was supposed to be a friendly way. "Now, this place is pretty big, you think we can share till the storm passes?" he asked.

Joe stared at him for a moment and then shook his head, "I don't think so. There are plenty of other houses nearby. You should stay in one of those."

The man stared at Joe and I, his eyes narrowing with something ugly. After a moment he smiled, nodding. "Fine. We'll clear out. You guys were here first after all." He waved a hand to the two other men with him and they all backed out of the room slowly.

Joe followed them, his gun still drawn. I waited until I heard the door open and close to relax my grip on the shotgun, lowering it slowly. A few minutes passed before Joe came back into the room, striding over to the window to peer out, keeping a sharp eye out for the men.

I stood beside him still clutching the shotgun, my nerves raw. "You think they'll be back?" I murmured.

Joe nodded, "Without a doubt." He peered up at the sky, frowning at the snow clouds. "If it would just slow down a bit I would get out on the road now." He looked over at me and shook his head, "I don't want you getting hurt or sick."

I frowned; we couldn't stay here with an active threat. "We could wait till dark and leave then" I suggested.

Joe sighed, "That's what I was thinking. I'm just worried about us walking in the snow and the dark." He stared out the window again and shook his head, running a hand over his bald skull, looking worried.

"We'll leave as soon as it gets dark. It's the only safe option."

I nodded and began gathering up the few things I had unpacked, repacking my bag. When I was done I grabbed the shotgun and went to watch the back door. Joe followed me and waved a hand towards the living room, "You should rest, we're going to be walking all night and you haven't slept for more than a few hours."

I shook my head, "They could come back."

Joe nodded, "They could. But you need the rest. Go lay on the couch and rest. I'll keep watch."

I frowned softly at him, but chose to follow his instructions. I lay on the couch, staring at the front door, nerves taut with the worry that the men would come bursting in. Eventually sleep caught me in its grasp and I rested for a few fitful hours.

Joe shook me awake as the sky was darkening.

I tugged another jacket on and slipped my boots back on, pulling my hair into a low ponytail before tugging a Carhartt woolen hat on and sliding my pack on my shoulders. As Joe opened the front door I slid my thick gloves on and followed him out into the dark, our feet crunching through the snow.

The wind blustered and cut through my layers, stealing my breath away with its bitterness. "Shit" I whispered. Joe tugged me forward, the bungee cord connecting us keeping us from being disconnected if the snow or wind got so bad that we couldn't see.

For hours we walked the snow and wind blowing at us from every direction. Eventually, as I stumbled and fell more and more, Joe slowed and brought us to a halt. We stood on the side of the road, nearly 50 miles from Maryland, shivering and shaking.

Joe took a deep breath and pointed, "There's a rest stop ahead. We only need to make it another 5 miles. Okay?" he murmured through chattering teeth.

I groaned softly but nodded. He gave me an encouraging smile and took off again, leading me into the darkness. I looked up at the sky and thought maybe it was starting to lighten. Dawn must be approaching…it was just so hard to tell after walking for so long and with the sky so dark from the snow.

Five miles later we stumbled into the rest station, pushing the doors closed behind us with a heavy thud. I wrinkled my nose, it smelled like sewage. Joe grinned at me, "It might not smell great, but it's warmer and drier than it is outside."

I nodded and followed him to an interior office where we unrolled our sleeping bags, huddling together for warmth. We both quickly fell asleep, too tired to keep watch.

* * *

The door to the office slammed open, startling Joe and I awake. I looked around blearily and found the three men that had broken into the house standing over us, guns in hand, grinning. The lead man leered, "I knew she wasn't your daughter. Look at that body…mmmm."

I looked around for the shotgun and the man whistled at me, "Hey sweetie, you lookin for this?" he said, drawing the shotgun out from behind his leg. My stomach sank. He had grabbed it while we were disoriented, and now we were weaponless.

Joe shifted beside me and stared the men down, "You men need to leave. Before someone gets hurt."

The man holding our shotgun laughed, turning to his friends. "You hear that boys? He thinks someone is going to get hurt." He turned back to Joe and smiled widely, "Don't worry man, you just do what I say, and everything will turn out just fine."

He pointed to me and my stomach fell. "You, come here."

"Don't." Joe commanded.

I stared between the two men and swallowed hard. I knew Joe had to have a plan. I couldn't believe anything else. Joe shook his head at me. _Don't move_ his eyes conveyed.

"Now little lady or your _daddy_ gets hurt." I winced at the man's voice and gave Joe a pleading look, trying to understand what I should do. He shook his head again, eyes begging me not to move.

I looked up at the men and swallowed, shaking my head. The man smiled, nasty and cruel. One of the other men stepped forward and grabbed my arm, his grip painful as he tugged me to my feet.

Joe moved like lightning, attacking the men with a ferocity I had never seen before. His fists pummeled the man holding our shotgun, knocking his head to the side and then back with a sharp uppercut.

Joe grabbed the shotgun and whirled, firing at one of the men before spinning and ducking as the other man holding me raised his gun and fired. I screamed, watching the bullet slam into Joe's shoulder, knocking him back.

Joe shouted in rage and pain, lunging forward to slam the butt of the gun against the man, knocking me loose. I watched in horror as Joe bled, grappling with the man, his fists, knees and feet landing blows until the other man had been beaten into submission.

Joe pointed the shotgun at the fallen men and fired, not hesitating. Blood splattered against the wall and my jeans. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was horrified, but the only thing I could think of at that moment was that Joe was hurt.

When all the men were dead Joe slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. I stumbled over the bodies to his side and lifted a hand to his shoulder, frowning at the blood rushing from it.

"Joe this is bad. Tell me what to do."

He nodded and stood from the wall, walking over to the desk to sit on its surface. "Get the aid kit from my pack."

I nodded and dug through his pack until I found it. Joe cringed as he pulled off his sweater, then his long sleeved shirt, and finally his tshirt. I swallowed hard at the sight of the gunshot, fighting the desire to be sick.

Joe grabbed my hand and gave me a steady look, "Listen kid, I need you to help me dig this bullet out. Then we can stitch it up and I'll be good. Okay?"

I nodded and gave him a shaky smile.

"Okay, look in the kit for a pair of pliers."

I nodded and dug through the kit until I found the pliers and grabbed a bottle of iodine. I poured some iodine over the wound and the pliers, taking a deep breath, preparing myself. Joe put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me.

He quickly unstrapped his belt and doubled it, resting it between his teeth. He nodded at me and I swallowed hard, nodding back. I held onto his shoulder and began digging into the wound, feeling for the bullet.

Joe writhed and moaned, sweat pouring down his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" I whispered, glancing up at his face before reaching deeper with the pliers. Joe groaned and slumped, the pain making him pass out. I felt the bullet and gripped it tightly, yanking it out in one sharp movement.

Joe jerked and gasped, sitting up, looking around with wide eyes.

I held up the bullet triumphantly and he nodded weakly, a faint smile on his lips. He pulled the belt from between his teeth, "G-good job kid. Gotta stitch it now."

I nodded and threw the bullet in the trash can. I searched the aid kit until I found a needle and thread, sterilizing both with the iodine. My fingers pinched the wound shut and I began running the needle through Joe's flesh.

My stomach turned at the sight but I firmly forced it to stay calm. When I had finished Joe nodded, "Good job kid." I smiled weakly and wrapped a bandage around his shoulder before helping him dress.

Joe looked around the bloody ruined room and shook his head, "We can't stay in here."

I sighed and ran a hand over my face, "Where else can we go?"

"Down the hall. I need to sit for awhile, eat something before we get on the road."

I frowned, "We should stay a day, you need rest."

Joe shook his head, "No. We can't delay any longer."

I could tell this was an argument I wasn't going to win. I shook my head and packed Joe's bag, grabbing our sleeping bags and our packs, heaving both onto my shoulders. Joe frowned at me and reached for his.

I sidestepped his hand and shook my head, "No, you need to rest. I'll carry this down the hall. I can't carry it while we walk, but I can do this now."

He smiled at me and followed me down the hall to the large reception area. We sank down on the floor together, leaning against the wall. Pulling the sleeping bags over us, I closed my eyes, the adrenaline making my hands twitch.

After a few minutes I heard Joe snoring.

Taking a shuddering breath I turned and looked at him, worried about his pale skin, wondering if he had lost too much blood. I watched him sleep for nearly two hours before I stood and wandered to the front doors, looking out at the road.

The snow had stopped finally.

If we were going to get on the road today, now was as good a time as any.

I turned and went back to Joe, shaking him awake. "Come on, we should get on the road" I murmured. He nodded and after some quick re-arranging of the contents of our packs to make his lighter, we headed back out into the cold.

* * *

**October 20th, 2012**

I walked slowly, my arm around Joe's waist, his around my shoulders. It had been five days since he had been shot, and we were almost to the farm. His wound had gotten infected, and despite giving him the antibiotics and painkillers in our aid kit, he was still sick.

We were both exhausted from the constant walking, lack of food, and the strain the changing weather was placing on our weakened bodies. I looked around and realized we were only about a quarter of a mile from the farm.

New energy coursed through my veins and I tugged Joe's arm tighter around my shoulders. He gazed down at me blearily, "Whatsup kid?" he slurred.

"Almost home. Another quarter of a mile and we're there!" I smiled at him, trying to encourage him to walk faster. He nodded and we moved incrementally faster towards home. Half an hour later we crested the hill and walked up the drive to the house.

I breathed a sigh of relief to see smoke rising from the chimney and figures moving between the barn and the house. Our people were still here.

As we approached there was a shout from one of the men and people poured out of the house, running to greet us.

"What happened? We thought you were leaving."

"What's wrong with Joe?"

"Are you guys okay?"

I shook my head, "I'll explain once we get him inside. He's sick."

A woman stepped forward, looking concerned. She wrapped an arm around Joe's waist and helped me assist him up the stairs. She smiled at me as we eased him down on the couch.

"I'm Caroline; I was a doctor in Philly."

I sighed in relief, "Good, he needs you. He got shot and I cleaned everything, but he's still sick." I stared down at Joe with worry; he was half awake and looked like shit. Caroline nodded and began ordering people out of the room, leaving herself for a few minutes, only to return with a medical bag.

She knelt beside Joe and began tending to his wound, glancing over at me occasionally. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, "I'm fine, just exhausted. How are things here? Are we well supplied?" I asked.

Caroline nodded, "A few people chose to leave, and we decided to give them fair amounts of food. We've made runs out to grocery stores and gotten food there, and from abandoned homes. We have the well for water, and we hunt. We ration to make sure we stay on top, but things are okay."

When she finished tending to Joe she turned to me, her expression serious. "He's in bad shape. He has sepsis. The antibiotics you gave him helped fight it, but he needs something stronger. I don't have it, and I'll need to go to the local town to try and find it."

I nodded, "I'm coming with you."

She shook her head, "You need to rest. I'll take a few of the men and we'll be back before you know it." When I opened my mouth to protest, she shook her head, "Rest. Doctor's orders."

I smiled tiredly and nodded. Pulling my sleeping bag out, I laid down on the floor beside Joe. There was no way I was leaving him alone, even if we were safe.

Caroline smiled at me, crouching to brush my hair back and stroke my cheek. The action was so reminiscent of my mother it brought tears to my eyes for a moment. She stood and glanced at Joe before looking back to me, "He should be fine to rest for awhile. If he wakes, get him to eat and drink. He'll need energy."

I nodded and watched her walk out to the kitchen to speak with a group of the men. A few minutes later they were gathering their things, getting ready to head out. I turned on my side and stared up at Joe, watching him sleep.

I could see new lines on his face that hadn't been there before and his skin had an unhealthy pallor. It frightened me to see him look so weak. It frightened me more to feel so weak.

A thought borne from the exhaustion and fear I felt wormed its way into my head and chased itself around as I fell asleep.

This blackout was going to kill all of us.


	5. Monroe, Matheson

**October 21st, 2012**

When I woke it was mid morning, and the grey light of another snowy day was streaming through the window of the living room. I sat up slowly, wincing as my tired, achy body protested. Sleeping on the carpet covered hardwood floor had perhaps not been the smartest idea.

Glancing at Joe I saw that he was flushed, but sleeping. I had to assume that it was a good sign that he was resting, Caroline had said he needed rest. I stood and tiptoed out to the kitchen to hunt down some food, my stomach growling loudly.

I rooted through the pantry until I found some granola bars and dried fruit, snatching up some jerky too.

"You need to mark down how much you're taking of which food. We have to keep track."

I spun around and found a tall woman behind me, giving me a stern look. I smiled hesitantly, "Right, sorry. It's just been like a week since I had more than one meal a day. But I'll mark it down."

The woman nodded and handed me a clipboard, watching as I wrote down my name, which food I had taken and how much. I gave her another smile as I handed it back, sighing when she simply took the clipboard and walked away.

"Good job Becca, making friends wherever you go" I muttered softly. Shaking my head at the woman's surly demeanor, I walked back to the living room and sat back down on the floor by Joe.

I ripped into the jerkey, sipping on water as I munched on the granola bar, sighing in satisfaction. It felt amazing to eat.

"Want to…share…some of that?"

I spun around at the sound of Joe's weak voice, my heart pounding. His face was pale as he struggled to sit up and I quickly knelt by him, forcing him to lay back.

"Lay still! You shouldn't move."

Joe shook his head weakly, smiling at me, "Yes ma'am." He eyed my water and I quickly lifted the cup to his lips, helping him drink. His skin felt fiery under my hand I frowned, deeply worried.

"Are you hungry?" I asked softly.

He nodded faintly and I offered him some dried fruit. He chewed some slowly, alternating bites with sips of water. His color slowly improved, but his skin still stayed hot. Joe smiled faintly at me.

"You look worried kid."

I smiled, trying not to look scared for my friend. I shook my head, "Just wondering when you're going to get off your ass" I joked lightly.

Joe chuckled softly and broke out into a coughing fit, wincing and reaching for his wound. I stared at him, hopeless and worried. I had no idea what to do, and Caroline wasn't back yet. When his coughing fit had abated I made him drink more water, hoping it would soothe his throat.

Joe's eyes slid shut again, his breathing wheezy. I ran my hand over his bald head, wincing at how hot he felt. I began to hum a soft lullaby, stroking his brow, watching as he fell back to sleep.

A noise behind me startled me into turning. The woman from the kitchen was standing in the doorway, watching us. I frowned at her and stood, standing over Joe protectively, instinctively.

She lifted a hand, "I just wanted to check on him. He looks worse" she whispered.

I hesitated and then nodded. He did seem worse. "When will Caroline be back?" I whispered back, walking over.

She shrugged, "I thought they would be back this morning, but it's hard to tell. They could have run into other people or the place they went could have been picked clean." She glanced at Joe over my shoulder and then back to me, "We should take his temperature and see where he is."

She walked to the kitchen and came back a moment later with an old fashion thermometer. She smiled faintly as she handed it to me, "No electricity, so it works." I nodded and took it into Joe, opening his mouth gently and sliding it under his tongue.

A few minutes later I pulled it out and read it. 104°. "Shit." I looked at the other woman and shook my head, "That's bad, like boil your brain bad, right?" I asked.

She frowned, "I think if it's 105 we should put him in the tub with some snow. He's really close. We need to try and get him to drink water and we can put cold cloths on him." She sighed, "Let's get to work."

I nodded and quickly pulled on my boots and coat. The woman—whose name was Marissa, as I soon found out—and I quickly went about gathering snow into bowls for soaking rags in to wrap Joe in.

As Marissa set rags to soak in the snow, I began to undress Joe slowly. Pulling his layers off was hard enough, but given his size and weight advantage on me, it was even harder.

"Here, let me help."

I nodded and Marissa leaned in, pulling Joe up into a sitting position so we could pull his shirt off, leaving him bare-chested. I gasped at the sight of his wound. It was now a fiery red with nasty red-purple shoots emanating under his skin.

Marissa and I exchanged a worried look before moving to wrap the freezing rags around him. As the icy material hit his skin Joe's eyes fluttered and he groaned, waking.

"Wha-…shit…"

I nodded, "I know. It sucks, but we have to get your fever down Joe. Okay?" I grabbed his chin as he twisted and turned, trying to get his gaze. Our eyes met and I smiled, "Hey, trust me. It's okay."

Joe groaned but nodded.

As the rags warmed through the day Marissa or I would change them, one of us holding Joe's hand, encouraging him to be strong. We took turns taking his temperature, desperate for it to lower.

As the sun lowered in the sky and evening approached, Caroline and the group still hadn't returned. Joe's temperature was hovering at 102°, and he was resting fitfully, his brow furrowed as he slept.

Marissa tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a mug of tea, smiling softly at me. I nodded my thanks and sipped it, savoring the heat. The house wasn't freezing, but it wasn't toasty. The fireplace could only put out so much heat against snowy, freezing conditions.

"I'm not sure he's getting any better" I whispered, swallowing hard.

Marissa shook her head, "I don't know, I don't have any medical training." She glanced over at me and sighed, "But I think you're right. He seems weaker."

I nodded, frightened and tired. The other people living on the farm had filtered through the room through the day, offering help, but there was little to do. Marissa laid a hand on my shoulder and I looked over at her.

"You should go get some rest. I'll stay up with him for awhile."

I started to protest but stopped when she shook her head, pushing me gently. "Go catch some sleep in my bed. If Kyle is there, tell him to leave you alone and come see me."

I nodded and plodded upstairs, carrying my tea with me. A man was in the room, kicking off his boots and hanging up his jacket. I hesitated at the door, "Uhm, Kyle?" I asked softly.

He turned and nodded, smiling at me. I smiled tiredly back. "Marissa said to go downstairs. She's taking watch on Joe and told me to come sleep here. I-I'm sorry, I can go somewhere else."

Kyle laughed and shook his head, "Don't worry kid, neither of us would hear the end of it if I didn't listen. Get some rest." He grabbed a book and patted my shoulder on his way past, smiling at me.

I nodded and edged into the room, shutting the door behind me. It had been weeks since I had slept in a real bed. I kicked off my boots and lay down, pulling the blanket up over me. I was sick with worry over Joe, but exhaustion, fear and the stress of the day all caught up with me quickly.

Before I knew it my eyes grew heavy….

* * *

Thunder. Rumbling. Loud voices.

I struggled to wake, trying to determine what the noise actually was. Rubbing my face I sat up and heard feet pounding on the floor below and then up the stairs. Loud voices were calling out.

"Get snow!"

"Hurry!"

My pulsed kicked up and I was out of the bed before I realized it, running out into the hallway. Marissa and Kyle were carrying Joe between them, up the stairs. My stomach dropped.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"His temperature spiked to 105.5°" Marissa panted.

"We're getting him to the tub so we can dump snow on him" Kyle explained.

"Where's Caroline?" I demanded.

Marissa shook her head, "Downstairs. She got hurt during the supply run. She's right behind us though."

I stepped aside as they made their way into the bathroom, lowering Joe into the snow that had already been dumped in. Men and women came running up the steps, carrying buckets of snow that they dumped unceremoniously on him.

Marissa and Kyle spread it over his body, leaving his neck clear. I watched as Joe began to shiver and groan his eyes half open.

Caroline brushed past me, carrying a satchel filled with medicine. She knelt beside Joe and I saw a large bandage on her left calf and another on her right forearm. She quickly took Joe's temperature as she listened to his heartbeat, her fingers resting on his pulse.

When she was done she leaned back, her eyes closing.

My heart sank.

She looked defeated.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at me, sorrow in her gaze.

I shook my head, stepping back, not willing to hear the words.

"He's not going to make it Becca. I'm so sorry." Her eyes filled with tears and I shook my head, anger rippling through me.

"No. You're wrong. He's strong. Give him medicine."

Caroline shook her head, "He's advanced into septic shock. There's nothing I can do at this point. His organs are shutting down. He's dying." Tears streamed down her face and I clenched my hands into fists, wanting to hit her.

"Where the hell were you?!" I shouted. I stepped forward and pointed to Joe, "You could have saved him! It's your fault!" My voice and grown to a scream and I felt tears slipping down my face.

Caroline shook her head, "We were attacked by a large group. We barely made it back Becca. I'm sorry!"

My hand lifted to slap her and she flinched. I curled my fingers into a fist and took a deep breath, sinking down onto the side of the tub, staring down at Joe.

"Give him something so he's not in pain." My voice was raw and low, scary.

Caroline swallowed and nodded, "I have morphine. We can give him some and he can pass in peace."

I nodded and glanced at her, my face like stone. "Do it."

She nodded and fumbled in her bag, pulling out a vial of morphine and a syringe. I lifted Joe's arm out of the tub and rested it on the snow, watching as she carefully injected him. His breathing slowed after a few minutes and the lines of pain on his face eased.

My stomach unclenched and I stroked his cheek gently. "I'm sorry Joe. I should have done better. I should have gotten you better. I failed you." I shook my head, "Thank you for saving my ass. Thank you for being my friend, and a better father than my own dad."

Caroline laid a hand on my shoulder and I turned my chin slightly, "What?" I murmured.

"The next dose will be it. I'd like to let the others know so they can say goodbye as well."

I nodded and sat, holding his hand. The others came from within the house, shock and sorrow plain on their faces as they knelt, whispering goodbye to our leader and friend. When the last person had said their goodbye, they gathered at the door and watched as Caroline administered the morphine.

We held vigil together, each of us breathing quietly, softly, until there was one less breath in the room. Joe's hand went limp in mine and his lips loosened from their pained grimace into something softer, more at peace.

I bowed my head and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "See you around soldier" I murmured.

I stood and walked stiffly out of the room and down the stairs, my feet carrying me out of the house, through the snow and into the barn. I walked over to one of the empty horse stalls and stood, staring at the wooden walls.

Nothing.

I had nothing now.

These people meant nothing to me.

They were not my family.

The only person that was even close to being my family was in Atlanta.

Emotions swirled inside me like a rising tide until it nearly choked me. I lashed out, punching the wall of the stall, gasping at the sensation.

Pain.

I hit the wall again…and again…and again.

I slumped to the floor and clenched my bloodied hand, closing my eyes.

I wasn't staying here.

* * *

**November 1st, 2012**

I walked through the ruins of the once nice neighborhood where Hannah and her family lived. Many of the houses looked like they had been looted, and some had been set on fire. There was a scent of rotting flesh in the air, and more than once I passed a dead body laying in a yard.

My hopes of finding my friend alive were quickly becoming slimmer.

When I turned onto her street and saw her house was now a smoldering pile of rubble…hope vanished like smoke on the wind.

I wandered forward like a zombie, unable to look away from the wreckage. I stepped through the ruined front door and looked around, desperate for any sign of survival. Picking through the unsteady wreckage, I covered my nose, coughing.

White bone charred black in places…fingers clutching another body.

I stared in disbelief at the sight.

Three corpses, holding each other.

I crouched down and stared closely at them, trying to figure out if it was Hannah and her parents. The necklace around the neck of one of them made me sick…it was the same one I had given Hannah for her birthday last year. The metal had fused to bone in the heat of the fire.

I turned away, clenching my fist, feeling the bruised bone strain, letting the pain chase away tears. I hissed between my teeth. People had done this to each other.

I stood and straightened my jacket, staring down at the corpse of my best friend. I had to move on, find somewhere new. I turned and walked carefully through the house, leaving behind the smoldering tomb.

My only real option now was to go north, to DC.

If anyone could help me, it was my father, Randall Flynn.

* * *

**November 8th, 2012**

Goddamn people.

I shook my head as I cleaned the wound on my leg once again, making sure it wasn't infected. Three days earlier I had been looking for supplies in abandoned houses on my way out of Atlanta and a group of five men and women had decided to attack me, thinking I would simply give up my pack.

Unfortunately for them I had fought back, shooting three of them and stabbing another before one of the men punched me so hard it slammed me into a wall and nearly knocked me out. We had struggled for my pack and he had slashed my leg with his knife.

I was goddamn lucky he hadn't hit an artery.

Twelve stitches didn't feel lucky, but it was, and I knew it.

Sitting on my ass for days while it healed enough to walk or run on it, that certainly didn't feel lucky.

I had found shelter outside Greenville, holing up in an abandoned golf course. There was some edible food left, bottled water, and plenty of alcohol.

I sipped from a bottle of vodka and winced at the burn. Standing, I tested my leg, walking the length of the room, limping slightly. There was no way I would be able to run if I had to. Shaking my head I sank back down onto my chair and swigged more vodka.

Might as well pass the time enjoyably if I couldn't get on the road like I wanted.

* * *

Rain pounded down on the roof, streaming down the windows and dripped off the eaves of the patio. I sat on the patio with my bottle of vodka, watching the rain, keeping an eye out on the road.

It wouldn't be the craziest thing for people to be out in this weather. People had been out in the snowstorm and had killed Joe. I didn't have anyone watching my back, only the ability to barricade doors to keep people out.

Eventually though, instinct told me that someone was going to find this place. It was surprising that more people hadn't taken refuge here, at least temporarily. There was plenty of bottled drinks, and food that was canned and dried.

After another half an hour of circling the property, keeping guard, I went back inside, chilled. I heated a pan of pasta and canned green beans up over a sterno, inhaling the scent of real food eagerly.

When the food was gone I pulled out a deck of cards I had found and began to play solitaire, passing the time slowly.

**THUD**

"Come on man, just kick it open!"

I sat up straight and looked down the hallway to the other entrance where I could hear voices. The doors rattled against the chains I had looped through the handles.

"I can't! Someone chained em shut!"

"Shit, okay. Let's try the other doors."

I could hear their footsteps on the patio, walking slowly around, trying the other doors. I had left myself just two points of exit, and they would soon be blocking one. I quickly, and quietly, began gathering my things, stuffing my pack until it was full.

I slid my jacket on and flipped the hood up, drawing my pack up onto my shoulders.

"Hey! This door is open!"

_SHIT_

I had only moments until they were in the building. I walked quickly to the other door and eased it open, sliding outside and onto the patio. I kept the 9mm of Joe's in my hand, backing down the stairs, before turning and walking quickly away, making for the trees.

My breath came in pants as I jogged to the tree line, my leg aching. As the sparse leaves enveloped me I breathed a sigh of relief. Shoving my gun into my waistband, I turned east and made for the roadway.

* * *

I lay huddled inside the tent I had taken with me when I left the farm, soaked and freezing. I couldn't make a fire, all the wood was wet. Instead I had stripped out of my wet clothing and pulled on dry pants and a sweater, crawling into the sleeping bag, trying to get warm.

I had bandaged my leg, frustrated that some of the stitches had popped after my strenuous afternoon. It still didn't look infected, but it hurt worse now than before. Taking ibuprofen would help with both pain and reducing any potential fever, but I didn't have a lot left.

I ran a hand over my face, frustrated and tired. The golf course had been the perfect place to recuperate. Now I was stuck in the goddamn woods.

I had to find somewhere new.

* * *

**November 9th, 2012**

I limped slowly through the woods as it rained, shivering. I was cold, aching and miserable. The road couldn't have been more than a few miles…but I barely had the strength to keep moving.

"You gotta keep moving kid. You'll die from exposure or infection if you don't." Joe's voice was as clear as day, pushing me forward. I nodded, "Okay Joe." Some part of me knew it wasn't real, that it was just in my head, wanting to hear him, but I kept going.

When I stumbled out onto the road a few miles later I grinned. I walked slowly, painfully down the road towards town. By the time I got there I could feel something warm on my leg. Looking down I groaned; my stitches had popped again and my wound was bleeding.

I swayed and shambled down the street to a small house, knocking on the door. When no one answered I tried the handle, pushing the door open. I shut it behind me and locked the deadbolt, shuffling to the living room.

Dropping my pack to the floor I sank down on the couch, groaning. My eyes begged to close, to sleep, but I refused, needing to dress my wound first. Rolling up my pant leg, I hissed as the material scraped against raw skin.

I wiped away the blood and wiped the wound with iodine, steeling myself to stitch it again. By the time I had finished I was light headed, queasy and shaking. I wrapped a bandage around it and collapsed back against the pillows, breathing heavily.

Everything went dark.

* * *

**November 11th, 2012**

I woke on the couch, head and leg throbbing. I sat up slowly, rubbing at my eyes. Looking around, it took a moment for me to orient myself. The events of the other day came rushing back and I grimaced, leaning forward to examine my stitches.

Lifting the bandage I sighed in relief, they looked good. I didn't feel feverish; by some miracle I didn't have an infection. I grabbed my pack and rooted through until I found a bottle of water, gulping it down.

The pounding in my head receded slightly and I lay back, closing my eyes again. For now, I needed to rest.

* * *

**November 13th, 2012**

I limped slowly to the front door of the house I was taking refuge in, carrying a small load of supplies I had managed to scrounge from other homes and the store in town. It wasn't much, but it would let me stay here for a few more days while my leg healed.

I had found an expired bottle of antibiotics in one house and taken them as well. If I started to feel feverish, I would have something that might work.

Setting the supplies down I paused and snacked on some dried fruit, sipping on a sports drink from a vending machine. The weather had cleared for the past two days, giving me the ability to get outside for short walks and examine the area.

It seemed like people had stayed here for a long time, but then had decided to leave en masse. Every house was empty, with very few supplies left. It wasn't a large town, but if people had stayed, they might have had a chance.

I had seen yards with room for gardens, and what appeared to be a well used community center. It was mystifying why people had left. I couldn't complain though, it left me with plenty of room and supplies.

Sitting down on the floor I began to sort through the supplies, determining what would be eaten while I was here, and what would be taken with me on the road. When I had finished I dumped out my pack and started mending my clothes that were torn or ripped.

The end of civilization was goddamn boring.

* * *

**November 16th, 2012**

I readjusted my pack, walking slowly down the road. I had left town this morning and was in the middle of nowhere, following the road. I was beginning to suspect I would need to pull out my map and reorient myself soon.

Not that I was sure which road I was on.

Sighing, I continued walking, hoping I would see a sign soon.

By early afternoon I still hadn't seen anything more than mile markers.

I sighed and walked to the side of the road, sitting on the barrier as I swung my pack off and set it between my legs. Pulling my map out I flipped through until I found South Carolina and hunted until I found the town I had been in, searching for roads in and out.

My finger finally rested on a road and I sighed. Instead of going northeast towards DC I had somehow ended up heading northwest. I had been walking in the wrong direction for almost six hours.

"Shit."

A scream pierced the warmer than usual afternoon and I sat up, looking around wildly. More screams filled the air and I shoved the map into my pack, slinging it onto my back.

It sounded like a woman. My heart raced as I tried to figure out where the screams were coming from. I heard men shouting behind me and I turned, vaulting over the barrier and jogged through the forest.

Moments later I came upon a trashed campsite. Two large men were wrestling with a woman, slapping her and laughing at her protests. Blood ran from multiple wounds on her face and her shirt had been ripped from her, leaving her half naked and exposed.

My blood ran cold with fury and I drew my gun, raising it at one of the men, who still hadn't noticed me.

"Let her go."

My voice was loud, firm.

One of the men turned in surprise and stared at me. I pointed with my gun to the woman, "Let her go."

He raised his hands slowly, "Alright now, there's no need to get upset." His partner had ceased beating the woman and now had an arm around her throat, using her as a shield. "Why don't you just be on your way missy."

Rage made my vision blur for a moment. "I really don't think that's going to happen. I'm not going to ask again." I leveled my gun and stared coolly at them, my anger pulsing with my heartbeat.

The man smiled nastily, "I don't think you'll use that. You're just another weak bitch."

I sighed and shook my head, "Why is it that people think its okay to call me names?" I gripped the gun tighter and pulled the trigger, twice in quick succession. Both bullets pounded into the man's chest, sending him reeling backwards.

He stared at me in shock as he dropped to his knees, blood flowing from the wounds. His partner yelped and fumbled for his own gun, pointing it at the woman. "Don't even think about coming near us!" he demanded.

I frowned. I was a good enough shot at close distance and aiming at center mass, but head shots were beyond my skill. The man gave me a nasty grin and began to back away.

Out of nowhere two men came crashing through the woods, appearing beside him, flanking him. The man edged away, trying to escape, but the taller of the men lifted a gun, glaring at him.

"I really wouldn't move unless you want a bullet in your brain."

The man nodded and stood still, continuing to hold his gun to the woman's head.

The tall dark haired man pointed over his shoulder, "That was you and your buddy a few miles back, huh? That other campsite?"

I frowned, I hadn't seen another campsite.

The man hesitated and then nodded, "We were just trying to get supplies, dumb bitch fought back."

The dark haired man's face grew stormy. He pointed his gun more firmly at the man and his jaw ticked. His friend grabbed his arm, "Miles, what are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes wide.

Miles looked to his friend, "Bass, is this what this world is now? Is this what people are allowed to be now? There's no one else to stop them." He turned from his friend and in an instant two shots fired.

"Shit Miles! I think he shot her!"

I could hear one of the men, Bass, shouting. I ran forward to where the man and woman had both dropped and sank to my knees beside them. The woman had a bullet wound in her neck and was bleeding rapidly.

Her eyes rolled wildly, her breath coming in wet gasps. I reached out and took her hand, hushing her. Her eyes met mine and a wounded animal noise came from her chest, tears leaking out of her eyes.

"Shh, it's okay. I know it hurts. It'll be over soon." My chest ached with anger and sorrow. Her eyes grew cloudy as her breathing slowed and when it stopped her fingers went limp in mine. I stayed by her side for a moment, closing her eyes and murmuring a soft goodbye.

I stood and faced the two men, my gun still in my hand. I stared at them warily. The taller one, Miles, stared down at the dead woman, his gaze fractured and sorrowful. The other man, Bass, stared at me curiously.

"Who are you?" I asked softly.

Miles looked up at me, his gaze registering surprise for a moment. "Miles Matheson. Marine out of Parris Island." He glanced over to his friend who nodded at him and then at me.

"Sebastian Monroe, also a Marine from Parris Island." His startling blue eyes swept over me and I had the briefest sensation that I was being assessed.

"Marines…does that mean that the government is finally sending you guys out to help people?" I asked skeptically.

Miles shook his head, "We left to go find our family in Chicago. There hasn't been word from DC in weeks."

I nodded, "I was heading there myself. My father works for the DOD, and I was hoping I could find him." _Only as a last resort,_ I reminded myself.

Miles stared at me for a moment and then turned to Sebastian, raising a brow. "We could find out exactly what's going on. If anyone knows, it'll be them."

Sebastian frowned, "Yea buddy, but they could also shoot us for going AWOL."

I sighed and slid my gun into my waistband. These guys weren't a threat to me. They just sucked at decision making.

"Hey idiots. They won't shoot you for going AWOL. It's a national crisis, and I'm sure most of the bases are having the same issue. They can't report you to anyone, because there is no power. And besides that, my dad knows enough people that we can keep you guys safe." I waved a hand towards the roadway a few hundred feet away, "Can we go now?" I asked impatiently.

Both men stared at me for a moment before nodding. I smiled brightly, "Great. Let's get a move on."

Making my way back to the road, I heard the men talking softly, but couldn't catch their words. No doubt they were questioning the brilliance of travelling with me. Couldn't say I blamed them. I was pretty sure we would all be up, watching each other when night fell.

* * *

I watched the woman leading us up the road and wondered not for the first time if we were making a huge mistake. Miles was cautious enough for the both of us, but there was something about her that worried me.

Something about the way she had been with the dying woman…she had seemed natural, like it was something she had seen regularly. Who was as young as her and had seen death like that?

I snorted softly, soldiers, like Miles and me.

I nudged Mile's arm and pointed to her, "I'm going to go talk to her" I murmured. Miles sighed and shook his head at me, but waved a hand.

I walked quickly to catch up with her and fell in stride with her quickly. She glanced over at me, her dark brown hair falling out of her braid and into her face. Her eyes were green, flecked with hazel-gold spots, and they were sharp when they ran over me, assessing me.

"What?" she murmured.

I grinned, "Just wanted to get to know the person who's leading us. I didn't catch your name earlier."

She brushed her hair back behind her ear and nodded, "That's because I didn't tell you. Rebecca Flynn. But people mostly call me Becca." She glanced over at me and smirked softly, "Sebastian is a mouthful. You got a nickname?" she asked.

I nodded, "Bass. But you can call me whatever you want." I winced the moment the words were out of my mouth. They couldn't have sounded more like a pick up line unless we were in a bar and I had offered her a drink.

To my surprise Becca laughed and grinned, "Alright then. Bass it is." She shook her head and we walked in silence for a few minutes until she glanced over at me, frowning softly. "Can I ask you something?"

I nodded.

"Were you…were you in Afghanistan?" she asked softly.

I stared down the road and remembered the sound of IED's exploding, men dying, and the smell of blood. I glanced over at her and nodded, "Why?" I hated when people had a morbid curiosity they wanted satisfied. It wasn't my job to tell them what war was like.

It was hell.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and glanced away, her voice tiny when she spoke. "My brother died there. I-I didn't know what it was like. None of his buddies came back, they're still there I guess."

Her voice hitched and her fingers tightened on her jacket, her nails white from gripping so hard. "I just want to know if he died alone…if someone was there for him."

My stomach sank at her words. I had no way of knowing what had happened to her brother. I sighed and stared at the road ahead as we continued to walk.

"I don't know Becca. I do know that every man has field training so that if a buddy goes down they can dress a wound. I can tell you that if he was hurt, he was most likely with his friends. If he died in a med bay on base, he was surrounded by people who fought like hell to keep him alive."

I watched her shoulders tighten and she nodded.

We walked in silence for awhile until she glanced over and smiled faintly, "Thank you."

I nodded, "You're welcome."

I dropped back after a few minutes and gave her space, taking the time to think. She couldn't have been older than 21, and yet here she was, walking across the country to find her father. Which led to the question—why hadn't her father tried to find her?

I frowned and knew instinctively there was more to Becca Flynn's story.

* * *

_**AN: Becca has finally run into Miles and Bass! From here we'll jump forward in time more and more, with occasional flashbacks as necessary! I hope you enjoy the story! I would love to get some reviews or even PM's with your thoughts! Thank you for reading!** _


	6. A New Group

**March 17th, 2012**

A warm spring breeze blew and I shivered, climbing out of the creek, wringing my hair out. Snatching my towel off the branch, I quickly dried off and grabbed my clothes, pulling on my freshly washed clothes.

They had dried while I was washing and now smelled like fresh air. Miles and Bass made fun of me for washing when it was still so cold out, but out of the three of us, I was the only one who didn't smell like sweaty clothes and stinky feet.

Tugging my sweater on over my head I paused, half in the shirt, hearing something rustling in the bushes nearby. I quickly pulled it the rest of the way on and crouched down, reaching for my gun.

The bushes rustled again and I stood up, gripping my gun tight. Since the three of us had come together we had encountered group after group trying to take from us, trying to hurt or kill us. With the three of us working together we had been able to fight everyone off and keep each other safe.

That didn't mean that something bad couldn't happen while I was on my own though, and it had been a lesson I had learned quickly.

**_November 30_ _th_ _, 2012_ **

_I walked through the forest, scouting the area for any sign of game. Miles and Bass had shown me how to shoot more accurately with my handgun and a shotgun we had taken from the men we had killed._

_The wind rushed through the empty branches, creating an eerie howling noise that sent a chill over my skin. It had been nearly two hours since I had come out here, looking for a rabbit, squirrel, anything, and so far I had seen nothing._

_Miles and Bass were back at camp trying to come up with a plan on where we should go next. We had gotten into DC and the city had been flooded, burning, and stinking of death. After just a short day we hadn't been able to find anyone…only the dead._

_It seemed that the millions who had lived there had abandoned the city._

_Rustling in the branches nearby caught my attention and I narrowed my eyes, squinting to see if something edible was close by. The movement grew until I saw a person walking towards me, growing larger by the second._

_I cursed silently, backing away as quietly as possible, wincing when sticks and leaves crunched beneath my feet. The figure turned towards me and I felt fear pluck my nerves. The man was tall, taller than Miles, and well built._

_He carried a shotgun and gave me a slow, scary smile. "Hello lovely" he called out. I shook my head and backed away, gripping my gun tightly. "Where you going darlin? Bring that fine ass back here!"_

_I shook my head and turned, running away as fast as I could. I could hear him crashing through the woods behind me and felt terror hot on my heels. My lungs felt like bursting, but I kept running, glancing back to see the man gaining on me._

_I pointed my gun over my shoulder and fired, desperate to hit him. The bullets flew wildly, missing him completely. I could hear him laughing wildly and my gut twisted in fear, spurring me to run faster._

_I gasped for air, fear making my heart pound wildly._

_I climbed up the hill that lay only a mile from our camp and began screaming for Miles and Bass. "Miles! Bass! Help!" I screamed._

_A blast so loud it seemed to shake the trees startled me. I glanced around and saw that the trees near me had actually been blasted by a shotgun…not just my imagination. Looking over my shoulder I saw the man lowering his gun, grinning at me._

_I spun in the other direction, screaming when the shotgun roared again, blasting more trees near me. I zigged, going in the other direction. My foot caught on a branch and I sprawled to the ground, all the air smashed out of my lungs._

_I could hear the man climbing up the hill after me and struggled to rise._

_"_ _Don't leave now! We're just starting to have fun!"_

_I turned my head in time to see the butt of the shotgun coming towards my face. It connected sharply, sending me sprawling to the ground again, something hot trailing down my face._

_"_ _There you go darlin. You just stay there."_

_I groaned and struggled to move, trying to crawl away. His boot connected with my ribs. Crying out I curled into a ball and whimpered. My eyes slitted open and I saw my gun lying in the leaves only inches away._

_I could hear the man unbuckling his belt and revulsion made my skin crawl at the thought of him touching me. He bent over me, his breath hot on the skin of my neck and I inched my fingers towards the gun, painfully slow._

_He worked my pants down and I whimpered, scrambling for the gun quicker now. My fingers closed around the grip and I rolled, pointing the gun into his belly. I fired, and kept firing until the gun clicked empty._

_His limp body fell onto mine, his blood spreading across my torso in a warms rush. I gagged and shoved him off, stumbling away as I rose to my feet. I turned in the direction of camp and walked, shock making me numb._

_Halfway there Miles and Bass met me, guns in hand. When they saw me they came to a halt, eyes wide, fearful. Miles grabbed my arm, "What happened?"_

_I stared at him, frozen. "He's dead…down there…"_

_Miles stared at me for a moment before looking to Bass, "Take her, I'll go check it out."_

_Bass nodded and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me up to camp._

The leaves of the bushes rustled again and I could see a large figure emerging. Raising my gun I stood and called out, "Whoever's there, get out here or I'll start shooting."

A low chuckle came from the bushes and Bass stepped out, hands raised. I exhaled hard and shook my head, glaring at him. "Christ Bass, I could have shot you!" I scolded.

He smirked, "I doubt you would."

I holstered my gun and began braiding my hair, walking past him, brushing his shoulder with mine. "One of these days I might if you keep annoying me" I called over my shoulder. I could hear him following me and glanced over my shoulder at him, "Why were you in the bushes, were you spying Bass?" I asked, lifting a brow, smirking.

He grinned, "Not at all. I was just coming to let you know that Miles and I want to move on to Chicago and try to find our family, his family."

I nodded; we had talked about it a few times this winter, but hadn't tried to attempt it without proper winter clothing or supplies. Now that it was spring we could make a real attempt to go and find Miles' family.

We had made camp outside Philly for a few months now, moving from place to place, always looking for something stable. "Well I'd suggest we make another supply run before we leave. We're running low on pretty much all kinds of medical supplies."

Bass nodded, "We'll go into the city and see what can be scrounged." He glanced over at me, something unreadable in his expression and then looked ahead. "You feeling okay?" he asked softly.

I glanced over in surprise at him, Bass rarely got emotional on me. "Uh what do you mean?" I murmured.

He shrugged, "Your ribs, they look good."

I glanced over at him, brows shooting up. "Thought you weren't spying on me?"

His neck flushed as he looked away, shaking his head. "I-I just saw when you were pulling your shirt on. Miles was worried they were broken."

I smirked softly, "Miles was worried huh? Well, I'm fine, the bruising went away months ago, and the crack in the one rib seems to have healed. No more soreness."

We crested the hills and walked through the trees to the campsite. Miles was busy organizing his pack and glanced up at us, a look of annoyance passing over his face before disappearing. I knew he thought Bass and I were sleeping together, but it just wasn't happening.

Not that I hadn't considered it.

But with the way the world was going, I didn't want to fuck up the only good thing left in my life.

I sank down on a log beside my tent and began repacking my bag, rolling up the clean clothes I had washed in addition to the outfit I had been wearing. Miles and Bass tried to get me to wash their clothes but I steadfastly refused.

I hadn't minded for Joe, Hannah and I, but for Miles and Bass, two people who I was still getting to know and trust, I certainly wasn't going to wash their boxers.

Half an hour later we had all packed and were walking on the road, finally making our way to Chicago. I was snacking on rabbit jerky while Miles and Bass reminisced about their favorite meals pre-blackout.

"Definitely pizza and beer" Bass said, shaking his head, "God what I wouldn't give for a cold beer."

Miles nodded, "I'd probably push you off a cliff for a six pack." Bass laughed and Miles joined in, their happiness making me smile softly. "Lasagna…I could eat a whole pan" Miles said wistfully.

I shook my head and walked quicker to catch up with them. "You boys think small. My favorite is steak with garlic mashed potatoes, sautéed green beans, and chocolate cake for dessert. Oh and a big glass of wine."

Miles and Bass exchanged a look before bursting out laughing, shaking their heads. Miles slapped my shoulder, "I'd take that meal any day." Bass nodded and grinned at me.

I smiled softly, "Well, find me some cow, a grill, and the rest, and I'll make it."

"You know how to grill?" Bass asked, sounding surprised.

I nodded, "My dad taught my brother and I. Well, he taught Eddie, I most hung around and annoyed them, picking up everything when they really wanted me out of the way."

Bass smiled sadly, "I had two little sisters, and I know what it's like to have them underfoot. He probably loved that you wanted to learn from him." His expression was sorrowful as he looked away and I could tell from the way he was talking that they were no longer alive.

Miles glanced over at Bass, his expression wary, concerned.

It made me smile, the way they looked out for each other. Despite having different last names and being from totally different families, these two men considered each other brothers.

As the sun grew lower in the sky I wandered ahead, scouting for a safe place to stay. As I walked I saw a bright flash of orange in between the trees. Walking slower I saw that it was a tent, and that the belongings of whoever was staying there were strewn about on the forest floor.

A high pitched cry from further in the woods made my head snap up, my body freezing. Miles and Bass ran up, hands at their weapons.

"What is it?" Miles asked.

I shook my head, "I don't know, I don't see anything. But whoever it is, they're close."

Another cry, louder this time, echoed through the woods. I grabbed my gun out of its holster and took off running, trying to find the source. I could hear Miles and Bass cursing behind me, shouting at me, but I didn't stop.

Moments later we burst through the trees into a clearing, coming to a halt at the sight of two men beating a third man bloody. The men looked up in surprise and I raised my gun, "Get off him, now."

The men dropped him and backed away slowly as Miles and Bass caught up. I glanced down at the man and winced, he looked terrible. Miles and Bass stepped forward, guns raised.

"It's time for you men to leave." Miles's voice was low and dark, commanding.

One of the men shook his head, "Come on man, he's almost dead and there's plenty of supplies here for all of us." His smile was gregarious as he waved to the man lying on the ground, bleeding.

Miles sighed, looking annoyed and pulled the trigger rapidly, killing both men. I quickly stepped forward, holstering my gun and kneeling by the injured man. He huddled on the ground, protecting his face, wheezing gasps coming from his bloodied lips.

I touched his shoulder and he flinched. "Hey shh, it's okay, you're safe." He lowered his arms from his face and I smiled at him, "It's okay, come on, let's get you up."

Miles and Bass crouched, grabbing his arms, pulling him up. I slung my pack around and dug out a clean cloth, wiping his face off gently. "What's your name?" I asked softly, trying to assess how badly hurt he was.

He took a shaky breath and then whispered, "Jeremy Baker. Thank you for saving me."

I nodded, "People like that are growing too common. Let's get you back to your camp."

Miles and Bass led the way back to Jeremy's campsite and we helped him sit so I could stitch the large cut on his forehead. As Miles and Bass gathered his gear, Jeremy and I chatted quietly. He had tried to find his parents, but they had been lost in the fire in DC, so he had made his way north.

I sighed, "I'm sorry. Where are you headed to now?" I asked.

He shook his head and looked a little lost, "I don't know…I-I just…don't know."

Frowning I glanced over at Miles and Bass and then smiled at him softly. "Well, why don't you walk with us until you figure it out?" I offered.

I saw both men look at me sharply in my periphery and Bass called out, "Uh Becca, a word?" I smiled at Jeremy and finished cleaning his wounds before standing and walking over to the men. Raising a brow I crossed my arms defiantly, daring them to challenge me.

Miles rolled his eyes and shook his head, "You're a goddamn pain in the ass, you know that?" he grumbled.

Bass glanced between us and threw up his hands, "Come on! You're just going to give in to her without a fight?" he exclaimed.

Miles threw a hand towards Jeremy, "Bass, does he look like a threat? Any of us could kill him before he tried anything. He's grateful to us to be alive. And there's strength in numbers."

I nodded and grinned when Bass gave me a dirty look. He hated when Miles and I ganged up on him.

"God you two are going to be the death of me" Bass muttered.

I patted him on the shoulder and grinned, "That's the spirit."

**March 20th, 2012**

Miles and Jeremy were out hunting, leaving Bass and I to guard the campsite. Instead of just sitting around however, I had asked Bass to work with me on self defense, to make sure I stayed sharp.

Bass was currently showing me how to complete a move that would allow me to get a headlock on a larger opponent and drag them to the ground. He nodded as I wrapped myself around him, yanking him to the ground, cutting off his air.

After a moment I released him and stood, offering him my hand. He stood and ran a hand through his hair, "Alright, let's move it up a notch. Don't hold back on your strikes."

I nodded and we squared off, circling each other. I threw a fast jab, testing his defenses, grinning when he danced back quickly. Bass lunged forward and threw a fast combo—jab towards my face, hook towards my ribs.

I barely got my hands up to protect my face, and my sidestep wasn't nearly fast enough to stop him from landing a blow to my ribs. I grunted and whirled, kicking at his knee, knocking him aside.

Bass laughed and nodded, recovering quickly. His foot swept out and tried to knock mine out from under me, but I stumbled back, avoiding him. He darted after me, his fists flying. I ducked and weaved, trying to avoid him.

My arm caught one of his blows and in that opening I lunged forward and slammed a hard left hook into his jaw, reeling him back. I took the opportunity and followed it up with a jab to the nose, and then a roundhouse to the torso.

Bass grunted and crumpled to the ground, clutching his ribs, blood flowing from his nose. I stood to the side, panting. He looked up at me and grinned.

"Not bad kid" he said, raising a brow as he wiped away the blood.

I reached a hand out and smiled, "You know, I really hate it when you call me kid. Especially since I just kicked your ass."

Bass grinned and grabbed my hand, yanking me off balance and onto the ground, pinning me in seconds, his arm across my throat, cutting off my air. Smirking, he murmured, "You were saying something about kicking my ass?"

He lifted his arm and shook his head, smiling at me. "You are a kid Becca. Despite what's happened to you, to all of us, you're still just a kid."

Annoyance and a desire to prove him wrong surged through me. I opened my eyes wide and nodded, "You're right, I don't have as much experience as you and Miles." Bass narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. I never gave in that easily.

With a wicked smile I wrapped my legs around him and surged against him, flipping us over, using momentum and surprise. I whipped my knife out of its holster and held it to his throat, grinning as his eyes widened.

"I might not have as much experience as you Bass, but I do have something you don't" I murmured.

He swallowed, his eyes on mine, "What's that?" he asked softly.

"The knowledge that I survived in the world before the blackout. I'm a woman Bass. I'm something you'll _never_ be. Show me a man who can understand the fear a woman lives with everyday normally, and then everything I went through after the blackout, and I'll gratefully admit defeat. But not until then." My voice was steady, but my fingers gripped the knife tight.

Bass stared up at me, his expression solemn. After a moment his fingers wrapped around my wrist and I lifted my hand away from his throat. His blue eyes bore into mine as he spoke, "I don't doubt your will to live, or the things you've experienced. I don't even doubt that you've had to fight. I just worry that things are going to get worse and you might not be able to withstand them" he murmured.

I shook my head and stood, stepping away. I stared into the woods, listening to him stand. "Did I ever tell you what happened to my friend Joe?" I murmured.

"No."

I nodded. "We were travelling back from Atlanta where my best friend Hannah lived. There was a huge snow storm so we took refuge, trying to get out of it. We stayed in this house, and three men broke in. Joe and I made them leave, but we were sure that they were going to come back. We left that night, while it was still snowing, and walked for miles until we found a rest station."

My hands clenched at the memory of what had happened next.

"The men followed us. They held us at gunpoint and demanded that I come with them…but Joe told me to stay. He fought back and killed all of them, but not before he got shot. We cleaned out his wound and started back to Philly. By the time we made it back it was infected."

I heard Bass step close behind me and could feel his warmth behind me. I struggled not to cry.

"He-he…could have made it. But the doctor at the house got injured when they went to get the medicine he needed. By the time she made it back, he was too far gone."

I turned and stared Bass in the eye. "I made the decision to end my friend's life. We gave him enough morphine so it was peaceful…but Bass, I did that. I made that decision. How much harder does it get?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

Bass shook his head, his eyes bright. I wiped at my eyes and took a shaky breath. "I left to try and find my friend in Atlanta only to find she and her whole family was dead. My father abandoned me, and my mother probably killed herself. Tell me Bass, how much harder will it get?" I demanded, my voice shaking with unshed tears.

Bass shook his head and reached out, wrapping an around my shoulders, drawing me into his embrace. He said nothing, simply holding me as I cried quietly, holding onto his shoulders to keep from falling down.

When my tears quieted I pulled away and wiped my cheeks, shaking my head, "Sorry, I didn't mean for all of that to come out."

Bass shook his head, "It's fine. Seems like you've been keeping it all up for awhile."

I nodded and turned away, embarrassed to have fallen apart like that in front of him. I pulled my hair out of its bun and fluffed it around my face, hiding. I sat down on a log by the fire and pulled out my 9mm, slowly taking it apart and cleaning it.

Bass moved to the other side of the fire and began doing the same with his, neither of us talking. After awhile he broke the silence, "Why do you think Miles agreed to let Jeremy join us?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

I glanced up and smiled faintly. "Why? Are you worried that Miles doesn't love you as much?" I teased. Bass rolled his eyes at me and I laughed softly. "I think he's trying to help people Bass. He makes the hard decisions in this group; when to kill, when to leave people, who to take with us. He doesn't want you to have to be the one to make those decisions."

Bass frowned, "Why? I can make tough decisions."

I nodded, "I know, but to Miles you're his little brother. Big brothers protect their siblings. They don't want you to do things that might hurt you. Kind of like how you protect me." I smiled at him across the fire.

He nodded thoughtfully and finished cleaning and putting his gun back together. Loading the clip back in he chambered a round and stood. He smiled faintly at me, "I'm going to check the perimeter, you stay here."

I nodded and continued to work on my gun, watching as he sauntered away. When he had disappeared from sight I set my gun aside and ran a hand over my face. I could not believe I had fallen apart like that.

If I wanted the men to continue to take me seriously I needed to keep my shit together.

_Though being that close to Bass was nice…he's all sorts of muscular…and he certainly didn't move to get you off of him…_

"Ugghh shut up!" I whispered to the treacherous little voice in my head.

"You know talking to yourself is a sign of madness" Miles called out sarcastically.

I glanced up and saw all three men walking through the woods, carrying a deer. I smiled, "Yea well the voices were trying to convince me to leave your smelly asses behind. So maybe you boys should take a bath in the creek after you butcher that?" I suggested.

Miles shrugged, "I don't know what you mean, I don't smell anything."

I grinned and watched as the men strung the deer up and began butchering it, preparing some of the meat to be made into jerky and the rest for dinner that night. As they finished I dug into my pack and pulled out a bar of soap and tossed it to Jeremy.

"Go bathe. You boys smell."

Miles grabbed the soap from Jeremy and pointed to me triumphantly, "I knew it! I knew you had soap."

I grinned, "I have a bottle of whiskey in here too if you boys hurry."

Jeremy snatched the soap out of Miles' hand and ran off into the woods, yelling, "First dibs!" Miles and Bass ran after him, cursing. I laughed and pulled out the bottle of whiskey I had found in an abandoned house and opened it, taking a healthy swig.

As the meat cooked I opened a can of beans and another of corn, mixing it together until it smelled delicious and my stomach was rumbling. The sun was setting and I was just beginning to worry about the men when rustling in the trees alerted me to their return.

I grabbed my gun, just in case it wasn't them and stood, alert.

All three men broke through the tree line, shirtless. I bit my lip and quickly looked away. _They're your friends. Stop looking at them like you want to fuck them—they're going to notice._ Part of me thought maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea—the part of me that hadn't had sex in…a year?

I muffled a groan by swallowing more whiskey.

"Hey! Don't bogart the whiskey!" Miles called out. He shrugged on a shirt and walked over, snatching the bottle away from me. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Bass and Jeremy pulled their shirts on and sighed in relief…and disappointment.

As we ate dinner the whiskey bottle was passed around until everyone was slightly buzzed…me more so than the men.

As Miles cleaned the dishes I grabbed the soap and a change of clothes…and the bottle of whiskey. "I'm going to bathe" I announced softly, trying to slide away without making a fuss.

Bass frowned at me, "You shouldn't go alone at night, it's not safe."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "It's fine, I'll take my gun and knife."

Jeremy stepped forward, "I'll go with her."

Bass narrowed his eyes, "I don't think so."

I stepped forward and raised a hand, "It's fine, he can come. He'll stay in the trees and watch out for people."

Bass opened his mouth to protest and I shook my head, "I'm going. It'll be fine." I waved to Jeremy who nodded and grabbed his gun, following me. We walked through the forest in silence until we came upon the creek that I had been using for bathing.

I turned to Jeremy and pointed to the trees, "You stay here. Don't look." He nodded and turned, facing away. I quickly stripped and took a swig from the whiskey, swaying slightly. God I hadn't been drunk in ages.

Taking the soap with me I waded into the water, wincing at the cold. I shivered as I scrubbed my skin and hair, trying to be quick. Eventually the water didn't feel too bad…I glanced over at Jeremy and recalled his shirtless figure…a rush of heat went through my body.

"Jeremy" I called softly.

His head turned slightly, not enough to see me. "Yea?"

"Come here"

He hesitated and then turned. I saw his brows rise and then a smile curled his lips. I lifted a hand from the water and crooked a finger. "I don't think that's a good idea" he called.

"Why not?"

"Miles and Bass would kill me."

I sighed and shivered; now the water was getting cold. I walked forward and the cool night air hit my skin, tightening my nipples. Jeremy's eyes traveled over my body and his gaze met mine, lust burning brightly.

I walked up to him and smiled faintly, "It might be worth it." The breeze blew and I shivered, stepping closer until my body brushed against his.

Jeremy closed his eyes for a moment before muttering, "Fuck." His eyes flew open and he reached out to wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me against him roughly. His head came down, capturing my lips with his.

A soft noise of pleasure came from my throat and I wound my arms around his neck, grinding my hips against his, seeking out friction. He groaned at the sensation and reached down to grab my ass, lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around him.

Our kisses were deep and heavy, leaving me aching for more, grinding against him in a desperate bid for release. He stumbled backwards and collapsed against the grass, holding onto me tightly. I broke away from his mouth, trailing kisses to his throat, nipping at his skin, my fingers working at his belt.

I glanced up at him as I tugged his pants down, "Condom?" I asked breathlessly. He shook his head and I frowned. I had gotten the birth control implant two years earlier, so I should be protected, but it was better to be safe and double up.

Without that protection…I'd have to try and find a pharmacy and find a morning after pill. After a moment's hesitation I nodded and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. I grasped his dick and guided him to me, sliding down slowly, moaning.

Jeremy groaned beneath me, his hips quivering as I sank down slowly. I gripped his shoulders as I began to ride him, my breath catching as he grabbed my hips and thrust up hard.

"Fuck that feels good" I whispered, gripping him harder. He reached up and palmed my breast, running a thumb over my nipple and I inhaled sharply, making a noise of pleasure. "Yea…yea" I murmured, encouraging him.

Jeremy continued to touch me, running his hands over my waist and up across my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers, sending sharp bolts of pleasure through me. I was breathless with pleasure, aching for release.

I rolled my hips faster, gasping, "Come on…please" I cried out softly. Jeremy held onto my waist as I moved, thrusting up harder. When he began to hit my gspot inside me I cried out loudly, bucking hard.

"Yes! Oh fuck yes!" I cried, not caring how loud I was. I was so close…I reached down and began playing with my clit, crying out louder as I rode Jeremy wildly, my limbs on fire as I got closer to cuming.

Jeremy groaned beneath me, "Come on baby, come on. I'm close." He continued to move against me, thrusting so hard it was almost painful, still hitting deeply, until I came, still touching myself.

I cried out and felt Jeremy continuing to thrust until a few moments later he too came, groaning my name. I collapsed against him for a few moments, breathing heavily. When the breeze blew it sent a cold chill down my spine and I crawled off him.

Grabbing my soap I walked unsteadily back to the creek and washed again, scrubbing myself. I could hear Jeremy behind me, standing and zipping his pants. As I walked out of the water, shivering, he handed me a towel.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

I nodded and avoided his gaze, quickly dressing. His hand landed on my arm and I looked up. He smiled faintly, "It doesn't have to mean anything, or be more than this once. I'm fine with that."

Relief shot through me and I nodded, smiling faintly back at him, "Thank you. I-I…don't just have sex with every guy we save. I just needed an itch scratched."

Jeremy grinned and shook his head, "It's fine. That was some good itching."

I laughed and tugged on my boots and jacket, "Agreed. But we should get back before Miles and Bass come looking."

Jeremy gave me a wry smile, "I think they probably heard us."

I flushed, "You think?" _God that would be embarrassing._

Jeremy nodded, "You're…enthusiastic."

I laughed and we walked back towards camp slowly. "I've never been good at staying quiet. Sorry."

He shook his head, "I take it as praise. Means I'm doing something right."

I nodded and smiled up at him. "You're not too shabby." We walked in silence for a few minutes until I glanced up and asked, "So did you have a wife or girlfriend before the power went out?"

"I was dating someone, but it wasn't serious. I tried to convince her to come with me, but she went with her family. No idea what happened to her."

I nodded. "I had an ex boyfriend. It never occurred to me to check and see what happened to him."

Jeremy shrugged, "You can't save everyone."

We broke through the trees and found Miles and Bass waiting by the fire, both of them armed. I glanced over at Jeremy and sighed, "Maybe you should let me talk to them?" I suggested. He nodded and backed away slowly, heading for his tent.

I stood across from Miles and Bass and raised a brow, "Well? What seems to be the problem?" I demanded.

Miles stared at me and then shook his head, "You know."

I nodded, "I do. But if we're going to talk about, we're damn sure not going to dance around it. So tell me like a man."

Miles glared at me. He shook his head and turned away.

"You fucked him!" Bass shouted.

I turned my gaze to him and raised a brow, momentarily stunned by his outburst. His face was flushed with anger and he was glaring at me like I had betrayed him. Miles's shoulders were tight, still turned from me.

I sighed, "First, I had sex with Jeremy. Second, it was my choice. Third, this has nothing to do with either of you. Fourth, if it happens again, it's between Jeremy and I, and we'll decide whether or not that happens. Lastly, I don't appreciate you treating this like some ordeal that you have any influence over. It's not, it won't ever be, and if you have anything to say about all of this, speak now."

Bass glared at me for a long moment before huffing and crossing his arms. "We're just worried about you Becca" he muttered.

Miles turned around and nodded, "We don't exactly know Jeremy. We just want you to be safe."

I frowned at both of them. "You realize me having sex with Jeremy is no different than if I met him at a frat or a bar and had sex with him." Miles opened his mouth to say something and I shook my head, "No, it's also no different than the stories I've heard you two tell about the women you've picked up in bars. So please, shut up."

I spun on my heel and strode angrily away to my tent, wishing for a door I could slam to emphasize my point. I lay staring up at the tent roof for hours, listening as the men talked quietly outside.

Eventually I grew tired and rolled into my sleeping bag, zipping it up around me.

"Fucking men" I whispered, closing my eyes.

* * *

_**AN: Hey all! I hope you are enjoying the story! Please review!** _


	7. Without You

**June, 2015**

Sweat ran down my spine from the humidity and the sun beating down on where I was sitting, limbs wrapped around tree branches. I lifted the binoculars and peered into the distance, frowning softly.

The other camp was nearly two miles away. From the cliff side and this high in the tree, I could still see their tents, tiny little multi-colored pieces of fabric that shimmered in the sun. Miles and a trio of men and women in our growing group had stumbled upon the other camp a week ago during a scouting trip and had reported that they had light security, huge food supplies, and almost no weaponry.

Miles wanted to overrun them and take their supplies, use them for our growing camp, but Bass was adamant that we didn't need to destroy the other camp, that we could instead assimilate them into our own and combine resources.

Sighing I lowered the binoculars and wiped the sweat from my face. Their argument had been heated and would have come to blows if Jeremy and I hadn't stepped in. I don't know if it's the heat or the fact that we've been rationing the alcohol, but Miles and Bass have been at each other for weeks, arguing over tactics and every decision.

More and more I've been stepping in, settling matters by giving them a rational opinion based on a cold evaluation of the situation. The fact that I'm finally using my policy and diplomacy skills I learned at school is ridiculous, given the state of the world.

I lowered myself from branch to branch until I landed softly on the dusty ground, sneezing at the pollen and dust swirling around me. Our camp lay a quarter mile below me, the cliff side jutting out above it.

I picked my way carefully down the trail I had scaled, occasionally climbing nearly sheer parts of the cliff. As I swung down onto the ground, my knee slipped and smashed into the rock, nearly blinding me with pain.

"Oh fuck!" I cried, dropping to the ground, clutching my knee. When the spots had cleared from my eyes I took a shaky breath and lifted my hand, wincing. Blood was pouring from the gash and when I tried to put weight on it to stand, I collapsed back to the ground.

"Shit…"

I shook my head and lifted myself with my arms, leveraging my other leg under me, my wounded leg shaking. I slowly hobbled back to camp, making my way to the infirmary tent. Sweat poured down my neck as I swayed into the tent, crawling onto a cot.

Our only doctor seemed to be missing, and the nurse, Mary, was also MIA. Groaning, I laid back on the cot, closing my eyes as my knee throbbed painfully. My head swam from the pain and I considered vomiting.

The tent opening flapped and I heard footsteps.

"Christ Becca, what happened?" Miles demanded.

I groaned softly. "I slipped coming down the cliff. It was fucking stupid. Where the hell is the Doc? Or Mary?"

"Checking on Shelley in Bass's tent. She's been having false labor for a few days now and Bass is worried."

I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. Bass had met Shelley a year ago and soon after they had gotten pregnant. It had immediately become a source of worry; Shelley needed vitamins, extra food, protection, and to make sure the baby came safely.

"How long will they be?" I asked softly.

I heard Miles moving around in the tent and a minute later heard his feet beside my head. I cracked my eyes open and found him standing over me with a bottle of peroxide and some bandages.

"Longer than you want to wait. I'll fix you up."

I frowned and sighed, _great. Loving attention from Miles. This isn't going to suck AT ALL._ I gave him a dry smile, "Awesome."

Miles crouched beside me and ripped open the tear in my jeans, his fingers brushing against my wound, making me flinch at the pain. He shrugged, "Hey, I could just leave it and let you get an infection. I hear wooden legs are making a comeback this season."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Smartass."

He smirked softly and poured the peroxide over my wound, preventing anything else I might have said coming from my mouth.

"Oh shitfuckballs!" I cried out. My leg shuddered in pain and would have flinched away, but Miles held it down, looking in the gash for any debris. As his fingers probed I groaned, anxious to have this over.

After two long minutes he removed his fingers and poured more peroxide over the wound, then patted it dry, wrapping a bandage around it so it would heal, but not so tightly that I couldn't walk.

I lay on the cot shivering in pain for a few minutes while Miles cleaned up and then swung my legs over the side, sitting up. Running a hand over my face I glanced up at him, "Thanks Miles" I murmured.

He nodded and leaned against the tent pole, giving me a curious look. "What were you doing up there anyway?" he asked.

I tapped the binoculars around my neck, "Checking out the other camp. They haven't strengthened their perimeter, people are just wandering around, and they don't seem to have many weapons; just like you said."

Miles threw up his hands, "See! We should be taking advantage of the situation now, before someone over there gets wise to our presence."

I lifted a hand, cutting him off. "I didn't say that I agreed with your plan. What I think we should do is send a diplomatic group and see if we can set up trade. It would be far more beneficial to us to work peacefully with people, to try and build a society."

Miles scoffed and paced, "It's been three years Becca, who the hell is supposed to build a society? Us? Be realistic, this is the world now. There is no society. There's only what we make."

I stared at Miles in shock. When had he gotten this broken and cold? "Miles, that's not true. Society is what we make it. Society is the people. We are the people the blackout has left behind and we need to be better than just raiding another camp and leaving them to starve."

I stood and swayed, my knee throbbing. Miles stepped towards me but I lifted a hand to ward him off, "You can't do this. If you want my advice on this, I'm going to tell you every time you ask; don't do it."

Miles turned and huffed, his shoulders tight. After a moment he nodded, "Alright. Let's go see how Bass and Shelley are doing."

I sighed and nodded, limping alongside him slowly as we walked through camp. It was slow going, people stopped us to ask for help; more food, more water, more blankets, medicine…more everything.

I could tell Miles was annoyed and edgy after our talk but I pushed it away, smiling patiently at each person, stopping to see how they could be helped. I genuinely believed what I had told Miles about society.

We were what we allowed ourselves to be. Good or bad, society answers to itself.

"Please, ma'am, please. Our son, he's very ill." I stopped as a man and his wife (or at least I presumed it was his wife) stepped forward, the man carrying the limp form of his son. I frowned, stepping forward, glancing over the boy.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked. I paused, "I mean, does he have a fever? Has he been ill?" I explained.

The woman shook her head, "No, but he's not getting enough food." She reached out and lifted his shirt, exposing spindly ribs. I gasped softly and lifted his shirtsleeves, my heart aching at the sight of his tiny wrists.

Taking a closer look at the family I saw that they were all in the same condition. I frowned, "When did you all join us? We don't have an overabundance of food, but we have enough that you all shouldn't be going hungry like this."

The man shook his head, "We just got here last night."

I sighed and nodded, "I'll see to it that you're all given double rations for two weeks. If anyone has anything to say, tell them to speak with Becca Flynn. Got it?" I commanded.

The man and woman both had tears in their eyes and the woman embraced me tightly, "God thank you, thank you" she whispered. I rubbed her back and winced at the feel of her bones beneath my hand.

"You all go to the mess area and get food right now." I pulled my notebook out of my pocket and wrote a note for the mess line, letting them know that these people would be getting extra rations from my portion. I glanced up, "What's your name?" I asked.

The man spoke up, "I'm Tom Neville. This is our son, Jason. That's my wife Julia."

I nodded and jotted down their names before tearing out the page and handing it to them. "This should answer any questions they have. If not, ask around and someone can point out my tent or Miles's. Excuse me."

I smiled politely and nodded at their effusive thanks before stepping away with Miles. We walked a few more steps before he glanced down at me, shaking his head, "You gave them double rations for two weeks. Where's that coming from?"

I waved to a couple I knew and murmured, "From my rations."

Miles sighed heavily and shook his head. "You're too nice kid."

I shrugged, "Maybe. But I'm not going to let that family starve when I can do something about it."

We walked in silence, each of us contemplating our own thoughts when we arrived at Bass and Shelley's tent. I walked to the tent flap and called out, "Bass, it's me and Miles, can we come in?"

After a moment Bass stuck his head out and smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Guys, the baby is coming!" He held the tent flap open and we stepped inside quickly. I glanced over and saw Shelley with a sheet draped over her knees and the doc between her legs.

She grinned at me, her face lined with pain. "No dignity anymore" she called out. I laughed and quickly went to her side, taking her hand, squeezing it gently.

"One of the many curses of the blackout" I murmured. She groaned as a contraction began and squeezed my hand tightly until it passed. When she opened her eyes she smiled weakly up at me, her face pale.

"You hurt yourself" she commented, pointing vaguely towards my knee.

"Oh you know, another day another scar." I grinned at her and brushed the hair out of her eyes, "Just don't hurt yourself getting this little one here" I murmured.

Shelley grinned, "I won't hurt myself, though I might hurt Bass if he doesn't get back here soon." She grunted as another contraction began and squeezed tightly on my hand once more.

I looked around the tent, only now noticing that both Bass and Miles were gone. "Yea, where are the dynamic duo?" I asked Mary who was ducking in and out of the sheet covering Shelley's legs.

Mary frowned at me, "I sent them for hot water and towels. They should hurry."

Shelley gave me a worried look and then turned to Mary, "Why?" she demanded.

Mary gave her a tight smile, "Because this baby is coming right now, and we can't wait."

Something in her tone made me tense. Something wasn't right. I glanced down at Shelley and smiled brightly, "I'm going to go find Bass, okay? He wouldn't want to miss this."

Shelley gripped my hand and shook her head, "No! Don't leave me." Her eyes were wide with fear and I hesitated. Bass would never forgive himself if he wasn't there for her. But I couldn't leave her if she wanted someone…

Mary looked up at me, her expression serious, "We don't have time."

I stood straighter and nodded. Turning, I smiled down at Shelley, squeezing her hand. "Okay, get ready."

Mary glanced up and nodded, "Push Shelley."

Shelley nodded and began pushing with the next contraction, her groans echoing out of the tent. Her hand crushed mine as she bore down, but I said nothing, only holding on to her just as tightly.

I was terrified.

So much could go wrong.

"Stop! Stop pushing!" Mary cried.

Shelley cried out and panted, trembling on the table. I looked down to Mary and blanched; the sheets beneath Shelley were flooded with blood. Mary looked up at me and shook her head, her lips pursing.

"Go. Go find Sebastian" Mary ordered me.

I dropped Shelley's hand and ran for the tent entrance when a sharp cry behind me brought me to a halt. I turned and saw Shelley curled upwards, her hands grasping her rounded stomach, her face in agony.

I ran back and wrapped my arms around her, hushing her, turning desperate eyes on Mary. "Help her!" I demanded.

Mary worked frantically, reaching inside Shelley, feeling for the baby, trying to get it out. The doctor pushed on Shelley's stomach, his stethoscope pressed to her abdomen. Shelley screamed and arched off the table, collapsing back a moment later, her face as pale as the sheet covering her knees.

I grabbed her hand, my heart thundering with fear. "Come on Shelley, fight. Fight for your baby. You can't give up!" I shouted.

Her eyes found mine and she squeezed my hand. "You have…to take care…of Bass." I shook my head, tears running down my face.

"No. No Shelley. That's what you're going to do. You are going to have your baby, and you and Bass are going to be happy."

My voice was desperate and raw. I squeezed her hand in mine, my grip painfully tight, but she didn't seem to mind. She smiled at me.

"You…love him."

I felt like I had been struck by lightning. I had never told anyone. I had done nothing about it. I had only ever been his friend, making sure he and Miles survived and we all stayed together.

"I-I…" I couldn't speak.

Shelley cried out in pain and her breathing grew shallower. The doctor pressed his stethoscope to her stomach harder, and then shook his head to Mary. Mary lifted her hands from between Shelley's leg and I inhaled sharply.

It looked like she was wearing gloves made of blood.

Mary gently lowered Shelley's legs and laid the sheet down, her hands leaving red handprints on the stark white sheets. Shelley twitched and gasped, her eyes rolling wildly in her head and I groaned, "No…no, no! Shelley!"

The tent flap blew open behind me and I heard a guttural cry. A moment later Bass was at her side, burying his hands in her hair, his face in her neck, whispering words I couldn't hear. I stood, holding her limp hand as her breath shuddered in and out…in…out…in…out…

The world seemed to tilt under me.

She was gone.

Bass lifted his head from her neck and looked to Mary, his eyes bleary, "Where…the baby…."

Mary shook her head and I saw him flinch, something inside his eyes dying. He stumbled away from her body, heedless of the blood on his hands. I heard a cheer outside the tent as he came out, abruptly cutting off.

I stumbled away from Shelley and out of the tent, blinking in the bright sunlight. Bass was sobbing on the ground, clinging desperately to Miles. Miles looked up at me, tears running down his face and I gripped the tent pole until it hurt.

I turned back into the tent and went to Shelley's side. "You need to deliver the baby" I whispered.

Mary looked up at me sharply. "It's dead."

I nodded. "He deserves to know…"my voice broke and I closed my eyes. "He should know if he had a daughter or a son." My hand rested on Shelley's and I opened my eyes, staring down at her pale face.

"Fine."

Mary worked quickly, pulling the baby from Shelley's still womb, cleaning its still form off before wrapping it in a soft blanket. She turned to me and I stepped back involuntarily. She sighed and gave me a sympathetic look.

"I can take her to him, if you can't" Mary offered.

I glanced down at the baby, my heart breaking. "Her?" I whispered.

Mary nodded and I wiped away fresh tears, shaking my head. "No, no I'll do it."

Mary settled her in my arms and I suppressed a sob, running my finger over her still warm cheek. Mary went to the tent flap and peered out before looking back at me. "They're gone."

I nodded; they had probably gone Miles's. I stepped out and walked through camp, ignoring the looks I was getting and went to Miles's tent. I could hear Miles talking softly and I stepped inside, watching as his gaze lifted to mine.

Shock rippled over his face and he stood quickly, taking long strides over to me.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. He reached for Bass's daughter and I moved her out of his reach.

"Giving him what he needs." I whispered. I looked past Miles to see Bass sitting at the table, staring into a glass of whiskey. I looked up at Miles, "Trust me." He hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

I stepped around him and walked over to Bass, standing by his shoulder. He didn't even look up. "Bass, there's someone I think you should say goodbye to."

He shook his head, "Shelley's gone" he whispered.

I nodded, "I know. But…" I paused for breath before continuing, "But your daughter is right here and you need to say goodbye."

Bass inhaled sharply and looked up at me, his eyes widening at the sight of the small bundle in my arms. He stood and stared down at her, his eyes filling. He reached a shaking hand out and quickly yanked it back, and my heart shattered.

I turned and leaned my arm holding his daughter into his chest, looking up at him, "Take her Bass. Hold your daughter and say goodbye." My voice was a harsh whisper and I didn't even bother to stop the tears on my face.

He made a wounded noise and then lifted his arm beneath mine, cradling her, taking her from me. He pushed aside the blanket and a broken smile crossed his lips. "She's…so…beautiful" he whispered.

I nodded and laid my hand on his arm, "What's her name?" I asked softly.

Bass paused and then whispered, "Angela, after my sister."

I nodded and stepped away, grabbing Miles's arm and pulling him out of the tent. Miles waved a hand, "We can't leave him like that."

"Yes we can. He needs to be with his daughter tonight and grieve. He doesn't need us right now."

Miles shook his head, "You're wrong."

I grabbed his arm as he tried to head back in, "Just leave it alone!" I hissed.

Miles yanked his arm away and glared at me. "You don't get it Becca. The last time he lost someone, he lost everyone. His whole family was killed in a drunk driving accident. His little sisters, his mom, his dad. All gone."

I lifted a hand to my mouth and shook my head. _Why? Why did this world just keep doling out pain?_

Miles nodded, "He tried to kill himself after. I managed to talk him out of it. So please don't tell me that he should be alone. You have no idea what you're talking about."

I nodded weakly and watched as Miles went back into the tent.

My feet carried me back to my tent and I barely registered that someone was in my tent. Jeremy grabbed my arm and yanked my into a tight embrace, shaking his head, "I heard what happened, are you okay?" he murmured.

I stared at the tent wall, entirely numb. "Yea" I whispered. "Just fine."

Jeremy pulled away and frowned down at me, "You don't look fine."

I stepped back and went to my pack, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. I took a heavy swig and smirked sardonically at him, "Well Jer, Shelley's dead, the baby's dead, and Bass is a mess. It's nothing a little drink can't fix."

Jeremy watched as I took another long drink, swaying as my knee throbbed. He shook his head, "I'll be in my tent if you need anything" he murmured before walking out.

"Yea…sure" I muttered. I sank down at the small table in my tent and took another sip of whiskey, feeling it burn its way down to my gut. In the three years since the power had gone out, I had seen some terrible things. I had done some terrible things to survive.

Never had I seen the kind of pain on someone's face like I had seen on Bass's today.

Then there was what Shelley had said to me.

I grimaced and shook my head, taking a huge gulp of whiskey.

No….I wasn't going to think about that.

Instead I would sit here and drink.

* * *

I rolled over on my sleeping bag, stifling a groan. My head pounded and my stomach felt like a weasel had died in it. I peered up at Bass and sighed when I saw that he was still there, sleeping.

Last night Miles had come and found me, letting me know that Bass had wanted me, had wanted to talk about Shelley. I was already three sheets to the fucking wind, but I had managed to stumble to his tent and after a mug or three of coffee, I had felt marginally better.

We had stayed up half the night talking until Bass had decided he was ready to take Angela to be with Shelley. I had walked with him to where Shelley's body was and we rested Angela on her chest, leaving them together.

They would be buried this morning.

I sighed and ran a hand over my face. What I wouldn't give for the power to come back and everything to go back to normal.

I shook my head and sat up, wincing as my head pounded. Tossing aside the sleeping blanket I stood and went to make coffee for Bass, Miles and I.

After coming to get me Miles had gone to Bass's tent to clean up, removing all signs of what had happened to Shelley. I poured out the old coffee and started a new pot, letting it brew while I went to the tent flap, peering outside.

It was grey, chill and rainy.

I scoffed softly, _what a perfect day for a funeral._

Shaking my head I turned and grabbed my tshirt off the back of the chair, slipping it on over my sports bra. Tugging my hair out of its braid, I ran my fingers through it until it hung in long heavy curls around my shoulders.

Over the years I had cut off my hair and then let it grow back. It was currently hanging past my breasts and was growing to be a nuisance with the heat and how heavy it got bound up on my head.

"Did you make coffee?"

Bass's low scratchy voice made me jump—I had been lost in thought, peering out the tent flap again, watching it rain. I turned and nodded, smiling faintly at him. He nodded and threw back the blanket, standing and stretching.

I turned to look out the tent as he got dressed, letting the silence fall like a heavy blanket around us. A few minutes later he nudged my arm with his, handing me a cup of coffee. I smiled softly, nodding, and took it, sipping hesitantly.

"How's your head feel?" Bass murmured.

I glanced over at him and smiled wryly, "Like I probably shouldn't drink three quarters of a bottle of whiskey in one night ever again."

Bass nodded and sipped his coffee, staring out at the rain. "Shitty day for a funeral" he murmured before stepping out, carrying a cup of coffee for Miles.

I watched him walk quickly to Miles's tent and duck inside, anger burning inside me. This world was so _unfair._

* * *

I stood beside Bass, Miles and Jeremy at the gravesite, cold rain slipping down my skin. The people from camp had long ago left, leaving just the four of us here. We all held shovels, just waiting for Bass.

He stared down at the shroud of Shelley and the baby, his face blank. He took a breath and lifted his shovel, slowly shaking dirt down onto them.

It was the sign we had all been waiting for. We slowly began shoveling; taking turns so that no one moved too fast, and so that Bass was able to bury them at his pace. When they were covered Bass stood before the grave marker, staring blindly at it.

The men turned to go, to leave him there, and Miles gave me a significant look, raising a hand, ordering me to follow. I shook my head and handed him my shovel before walking over to Bass. I saw Miles shake his head and walk away with Jeremy before I turned my gaze back to the grave marker.

I reached out and took Bass's hand, standing with him, not speaking. We stood in silence until I had grown so cold that I was shivering, my clothes long ago soaked. I squeezed Bass's hand and turned towards him, "Bass, we need to go. We're both going to freeze to death."

He said nothing but when I tugged on his hand again and took a step away, he tore his gaze from the grave and followed me. I held onto his hand tighter and we walked back to his tent. I laid a hand on his cheek once we were inside, staring into his brilliant blue eyes.

"You need to change Bass. You can't stay in those wet clothes, you'll freeze."

He stared at me, his gaze unfocused for a moment, and then nodded. I stepped back, "Okay, I'll be back after I change." He nodded and turned away, absently stripping off his jacket. I walked to the tent flap and glanced back at him, worried.

He must have felt my gaze because he turned and stared back, expressionless. "I'll be fine Becca" he murmured. I shuddered from the cold and nodded, ducking out and running to my tent to change.

I pulled on a dry pair of jeans and a thick sweater before tugging my jacket back on and flipping up the hood. I walked to the mess line and grabbed two plates of food for us, running back as quickly as I could without slipping on the wet grass.

I ducked into Bass's tent and set the food on the table, waving a hand at him, "Come on, you need to eat." He stared blankly at the plate and then nodded, sitting down heavily at the table. I sat down across from him and waited for him to start eating before I lifted my own fork.

I barely tasted the food. If you asked me what it was, I couldn't tell you. I could only tell you that the look on Bass's face had me scared. He looked shattered, hopeless. I had no idea how to help him.

He finished his food and shoved the empty plate back with a scraping noise, staring down at the wood of the table, his hands splayed out before him. I set my fork aside and stared at him, worried.

"Bass? Are-are you okay?" I murmured.

He remained still, staring down at his hands.

"I can still feel her blood on my hands" he whispered.

Something inside me shattered at his words. I reached over and gently took his hand in mine, "They're clean Bass, I promise." He looked up at me and there was anger in his eyes now.

"No. No they're not. If the goddamn power was on, she wouldn't have died."

My stomach clenched at his words. He was right. If the power was on, millions of people wouldn't have died. Hell, billions of people had probably died. Bile rose in my stomach and I turned away, closing my eyes, fighting the sensation.

"You can't control the power Bass. No one can." I whispered.

"That's not true. Miles's brother and his wife knew something about what happened."

I turned back to him quickly and my eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?" I demanded.

Bass frowned, "The night the power went out, Ben, Miles's brother called him and told him that the power was going to go out, and it wasn't ever coming back."

My eyes widened and I sat back in my chair, releasing Bass's hand. _Holy shit. Those were the people dad was working with. They did this._ My brain leapt to the next, obvious conclusion. _Maybe they can undo this._

I looked up at Bass, "That's why you and Miles wanted to find them. Not because you wanted to make sure they were okay, but because they could turn the power back on."

Bass nodded, "We don't know where they are now. But we're going to keep trying to find them."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. "We'll never find them. This country is too large."

"I won't stop looking. Becca look at me." Bass's voice was sharp and I opened my eyes to see his burning with anger and sorrow. "I'm not going to stop. They did this, and they're going to fix it."

I stared at him for a moment and then nodded. "Fine. But I'm not letting you do it alone."

He smiled wryly, his first smile in days, "I know. I wouldn't go without you."

I nodded and smiled back at him, "Never. I'll always have your back."

We sat together for a few more minutes, the silence creeping back in until I sighed and stood, "I have to go, I have sentry duty." I wasn't thrilled, it was going to be a long night in the rain and chill, and it had already been an emotionally taxing day.

Bass stood and grabbed his jacket, flipping the hood up, "I'll come with you."

I frowned and shook my head, "No, you get some rest."

His lips twisted into a pained smile, "Becca, I'm not resting tonight, whether I'm with you, or in here by myself. I'm coming."

I sighed and nodded, flipping my hood up before stepping out and making my way to the perimeter. We greeted the man I was supposed to relieve and Bass walked down the line, relieving another man.

We handed off binoculars and flares before Bass and I made our way further into the trees, walking in silence, side by side. I pointed to the left and whispered, "I'll be 500 feet that way, if you need me, whistle."

He nodded and headed to the right, disappearing into the inky darkness between the trees. After I had gone about 500 feet I leaned against the tree, peering out into the darkness. We would stay in these positions for no more than an hour before moving.

The other camp was roughly two miles away through dense forest, which had kept us from running into each other.

After an hour I stood from where I was leaning against the tree and walked towards where I had seen Bass, whistling softly. A moment later a figure materialized through the blackness and formed into Bass.

I nodded and pointed forward, "We should expand the radius. With all the commotion at camp the past few days, they might have heard something if one of their people was close by."

Bass nodded, not saying anything.

We walked through the forest, the wet leaves slithering beneath our feet, creating a creepy, dark sound. After a few hours we turned, moving south along the other camp's border before heading northeast back towards our camp.

I paused, hearing a noise behind us. It sounded….like a baby. My gaze whipped to Bass, praying he hadn't heard it.

His eyes met mine and they burned with something I couldn't understand. He turned and began running towards the noise, his shotgun in his hands.

"Jesus Christ Bass!" I swore and ran after him, ducking under branches and slipping on roots. Half a mile later we crashed into a clearing and found a couple sitting by a fire looking wearied and terrified.

Bass had his shotgun pointed at them, eyes wild. My own widened when I saw the woman clutching a baby to her breast, obviously in the middle of feeding it. I stepped around Bass and knocked aside the gun, "Bass! They have a baby!"

I pointed to the child and Bass's eyes fell on the child, his shoulders flinching at the sight. I reached out and grabbed his arm, holding onto him tightly. "Bass, we need to go."

He stared at the couple for long moments until he nodded, stumbling back. He ran away and I sighed, turning to the young couple, "I'm sorry" I murmured before running after him. I crashed through the woods, desperate to find Bass, but he was long gone.

I slowed and made my way back to camp, praying he would be okay, that he wouldn't do something stupid.

* * *

I stood in the ruins of the neighboring camp, blood rushing through my veins, adrenaline kicking me to keep moving. I fought it and stood still; watching as tents burned and the men I had come with ransacked their supplies.

Bass strode around, directing the men and women who had come with us, ordering them to carry the supplies back to camp. His eyes met mine across the ruins and dead bodies and he paused, something flashing in his eyes-distress? sorrow? angst?-I wasn't sure.

He turned away and his shoulders squared, shouting more orders.

We made our way back to camp, sending people back for the rest of the supplies while Bass, Jeremy and I went to Bass's tent for a "celebratory drink." The men joked and laughed, pouring drink after drink while I sipped mine slowly.

It couldn't chase the bitter taste from my mouth over what we had done. I had tried to advise him not to hurt anyone, to just…let them be. But something dark had welled up in Bass and had come spilling out.

I saw it now as Miles came storming into the tent, "What the hell did you do Bass?" he demanded.

Bass grinned and it shook me to my soul. His grin had always been light, casual, teasing—occasionally flirty—but it had _never_ looked like this.

"We got the supplies from that camp like you wanted."

Miles's brows jumped up and he looked at me, " _We?"_ he intoned, and I knew he wanted to know if I had been there. I nodded and he threw up his hands, cursing. "Were there any casualties?" he demanded.

Bass smirked, "I think you mean were there any survivors."

Miles stared at him for a long moment before turning to me and piercing me with a look that felt like a punch to the gut. He looked like I had betrayed him, let him down. He shook his head and walked out of the tent, cursing softly.

I swore and sucked down the rest of the whiskey, tossing my glass on the table before striding after Miles, ignoring Jeremy and Bass's calls for me to stay. I ran through the tents, finally catching Miles.

"Miles." I called his name but he refused to turn. "Miles please. Talk to me."

He halted and spun on his heel, his face thunderous. " _Talk to you?_ I want to kill you right now for letting him go off like that and slaughtering all those people."

I barely flinched at his words, nodding. "I know. I should have tried harder to stop him. But Miles, if you had agreed to go after that camp and he had gone with you, it still would have gone down badly. He would have killed people, injured more. They would have found a way to retaliate, and he would have gone after them for it."

Miles stared at me incredulously, "Are you seriously siding with him? Are you actually saying what he did wasn't wrong?" he shouted.

I shook my head, "No. I'm saying that it was inevitable. Bass…isn't himself right now. He killed those people, and he'll have to live with it. Now you and I have to help him."

Miles glared at me, his brow furrowing. His eyes closed in frustration. "Becca you're supposed to be the diplomatic one. How did this happen?" he murmured.

I sighed. "Even the best diplomats get ignored by a leader hungry for blood. And I'm no Madeline Albright."

Miles sighed and shook his head, clearly still frustrated and upset. I reached out and laid a hand on his arm, "Miles. Don't think for a second that what happened is what I wanted. It makes me sick. I'm going to talk to Bass about it. But he needs us both."

Miles stared at me for a long time before nodding. I waited for him to say something, but he just nodded, sighing, and turned away, leaving me standing there, watching him walk away.

I went back to my tent and kicked off my boots, pulling off my shirt and jeans, washing off in the small basin of water on the table. When I was fresh I pulled on clean underwear and a long tshirt that skimmed my thighs.

I sat at my table, sipping a glass of whiskey, slowly getting drunk. Feeling anything right now…I didn't want that.

The tent flap made a soft noise behind me and I heard footsteps. Bass appeared beside me and sat heavily in the chair and I had to move my feet quickly out of the way or risk them being squished. His eyes were bleary and he carried a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, his grip on it tight.

I sighed and sipped on my whiskey, "What do you want Bass?" I asked tiredly.

Bass looked up at me and I could see it there in his eyes; regret, shame, sorrow, anger. A heady cocktail of emotion that was tearing him up.

"I can't go on without her."

His voice was low, rough, and sounded on the verge of tears.

I swallowed hard and shook my head, "You have to. Miles needs you. I need you."

He shook his head and took a swig from the bottle, his throat working hard. I winced and reached over, yanking the bottle away. "H-hey give that back!" he demanded.

I shook my head and promptly poured it out onto the ground. Bass glared at me, "That was mine."

"There's more. There's always more alcohol Bass."

He shuddered and dropped his face into his hands, "There isn't more. There's just this now. This god awful broken, lightless world."

I shook my head and leaned forward, laying my hand on his shoulder, "No Bass. We're going to find Ben and his wife, remember? We're going to get the power back."

Bass looked up at me suddenly, his eyes fierce. "What the hell does it matter? What does any of this matter?" he demanded. His hand moved from his lap and up to the table and my eyes widened at the sight of the gun in his grip.

Bass shook his head, "I've got nothing Becca. This world makes no sense."

I stared at the gun and then looked into his face, heartbroken at the look of utter loss and sorrow there. I moved off my chair and knelt beside him, reaching out to rest my hand on his, my fingers curling around the gun.

"You're right. This world makes no goddamn sense. But you're wrong about having nothing." I stared him in the eyes as I continued speaking, my left hand gripping his other arm tightly, "You have me. You have someone who will always have your back. I will always give you the best advice I can to keep you from doing something stupid. I will make sure you don't shoulder the burden alone."

I lifted my hand to his cheek, tears in my eyes, begging him with my gaze and words to hear and understand. "Do you get me? I'm here. You don't have to worry about going on without Shelley and Angela, because you'll carry them in your heart, and I'll be by your side."

Bass shuddered and tears slipped out, rolling down to fall against my hand. He nodded and took a heaving breath, wiping a hand over his face. I stared at him for a long moment before standing, taking his hand in mine.

He stared up at me and I smiled softly down at him, "Come on, it's time for bed." I saw the hesitance in his eyes and tugged on his hand until he stood. "You shouldn't be alone tonight" I murmured, "So stay here."

He nodded after a moment and sank down on my cot, untying his boots, setting them aside with his socks a moment later. His pants were off and on the ground, quickly followed by his shirt, leaving him in just his briefs.

He sank back against my pillow and I walked to the lantern, shutting off the gas, darkening the tent. Bare moonlight from the flap of the tent slit inwards and lit my path back to the cot. I slid beneath my blanket and curled towards Bass, resting my head on his shoulder.

His arm wrapped around my waist and he sighed softly.

We lay in silence for a long time until he whispered, "You think she'd be pissed at me right now?"

I smiled and shook my head softly. "No. She'd be glad that you have friends who care about you." _Selfish Becca…selfish. Just because the woman knew you are in love with him doesn't mean you take advantage._ I closed my eyes, silently willing my inner voice to shut up. I wasn't taking advantage.

I wasn't.

Bass sighed, "I miss her."

Shame shot through me and I swallowed hard, feeling like I had a scarlet letter on my chest. "I do too" I whispered.

We lapsed into silence and eventually his breathing softened, slowing until he was sound asleep. I lay staring at him while he slept, my emotions a mess.

The lyrics of one of my favorite songs ran through my head, " _So what is left but a broken man, cuz nothing hurts the way a woman can."_

It sure seemed that way.

* * *

_**AN: Okay, so as heartwrenching as this chapter was to write, I love it. I always wanted more from that flashback, and I feel like this kinda rounds Bass out more. I hope you enjoy the chapter and the story, please review, and thank you for following/favoriting! Also, the song inspirations for this chapter are "Way down we go" and "I can't go on without you" by Kaleo. So haunting.** _


	8. Laying Claim

**July 4th, 2015**

The sun sweltered down on our camp for the third week in a row. The land had grown dry as a bone and the river had shrunk within its banks, though it still ran deeply. At the moment I sat on the banks of the river, watching as men and women washed their clothing in its waters and drifted lazily in the current, enjoying the cool water.

Somewhere along the way I had found a bikini, and was wearing it now as I reclined against the chair, pushing my sunglasses further up my nose. A few children including Jason Neville were splashing in the river, playing and laughing.

It was a nice sight after the last few weeks of tension. We had been moving steadily eastward at the behest of Bass and Miles; they were convinced that with enough people we could resettle the cities and create a society.

After the loss of Shelley and the baby Bass had seemed to need a purpose and had found it in the idea of creating a society again. He was certain that he and Miles would be able to convince the men and women we met along the way of the idea and that with more people on our side we would retake the continent.

I scoffed and shook my head. Bass had actually said that. _Retake the continent._

Who did he think he was? Marco-fucking-Polo? It would take more than getting people back into the cities to make them livable again, but Bass and Miles shook off my arguments every time I raised them.

_One bridge at a time Becca._ That's what they kept telling me. I know they aren't exactly wrong, but I wish they wouldn't be so goddamn pigheaded. I sighed; they were both only getting worse. Miles was letting Bass have whatever he wanted, trying to keep him happy, and I was stuck trying to be the diplomatic voice of reason.

The only problem was, no one wanted to listen to reason.

I ran a hand over my hot hair and grimaced, I was getting sweaty and overheated-not to mention frustrated. I stood and walked down to the water, kicking off my shoes before I waded into the water, sighing in relief.

As the water reached my hips it pushed at me, trying to carry me away. I took a breath and dove under, letting the water wipe away my frustrations and sweat. The current carried me downriver and I bobbed to the surface, inhaling the sweet air.

I drifted, lying on my back, pondering my life.

Miles, Bass, Jeremy, Tome Neville and I were all in meetings regarding food supplies, medicine, and how to keep people moving together safely as we traversed the land. We were also discussing forming militia units to train since the camp was growing larger—well into the hundreds now.

With more men and women cropping up from different military backgrounds it wouldn't be hard to form a militia to keep ourselves safe, I just worried about what other uses it would be put to. I had put my worries forward at our meeting this morning and the men had all brushed me aside, assuring me that the militia would be used for "protection."

I rolled over in the water and tread through it until I reached the banks; climbing them and walking slowly back to my chair. I smiled faintly when I saw Miles and Bass approaching; lifting a hand I waved.

Miles nodded and Bass smiled softly as they neared. I wrung out my hair and grinned, "You guys should take a dip, it's great."

Miles furrowed his brow and looked at the river filled with people before shaking his head, "Nah. Too many people."

Bass nodded, "Too crowded for my tastes."

I shrugged, "Alright. What are you doing here then?" I asked confused.

Bass shuffled his feet and looked at Miles, "You want to tell her? It was your idea."

Miles sighed and frowned at him, "You coward."

I lifted a hand, "Hey. Someone tell me."

Miles huffed and nodded, "Fine. We had another meeting without you…and it was about you."

My shoulders stiffened and I could feel my eyes narrow, " _What?"_ I hissed.

Miles held up a hand, "That's the part you won't like. You'll be okay with the rest."

I sighed and nodded and he continued, "We decided that we've run roughshod over you pretty heavily lately, and we should have votes on decisions. Since there are five of us and the four of us are mostly militarily minded, we think that you should be our Policy Advisor and that your vote should count for two people. You would be the deciding vote."

I stared at Miles and then looked at Bass, studying his face. He smiled faintly at me and I saw no hint of disgruntlement there; he didn't begrudge me this. I stared down at my hands, my mind racing.

This was power…especially if we were going to be deciding the fate of the people following and joining us. I could actually get the men to listen. A smile grew on my lips and I looked up at them, nodding.

"Okay. But I need to get more books on policy and nation building. We should also get books on irrigation, crop growth, cross breeding of crops, battle tactics...god there's going to be a lot."

Miles and Bass grinned and I laughed softly, "You guys are going to regret this."

Miles shook his head, "We need someone to think of all the angles. You've got a good head for it."

Bass nodded, "You don't have to worry about military tactics, Miles and me and a number of other people in camp can handle that."

I nodded, but was still adding it to the list of books I needed to read. Just because they knew it didn't mean I shouldn't. I glanced up at both men and frowned, they were both sweating profusely and slightly pale.

"You guys look like you're going to pass out. You need to get in the water."

Miles shook his head, "I don't want to be around all these people" he griped.

I sighed and shook my head, slipping my shoes on and sliding my sunglasses on, waving a hand. "Follow me." I threw my towel over my shoulder and started walking, leading them towards a clearing in the woods I had found a few days earlier.

The river wound through a small grove of weeping willows and slowed, creating small pockets of pools. There was no one around and I grinned at the men, "Better?"

Miles and Bass exchanged a look, nodding. I grinned and kicked off my shoes, tossing my sunglasses down and walked into the water, sighing. The sun shone down here, warming the water, but not unpleasantly so.

I sat on a rock in a pool of water and lifted my face to the sun above me, closing my eyes. Water splashed on my face as Bass and Miles entered the water and I opened my eyes, grinning as they splashed about like children.

Eventually they settled onto stones like I had; Bass across from me, Miles sitting in front of me. He turned his head and gave me a puppy-dog look, "Will you rub my shoulder? Please?"

I laughed and nodded, pulling him back against my knees. His shoulder acted up occasionally and ever since I had forced him to sit and let me rub the sore muscle, he had taken to giving me sad eyes to get massages—which wasn't necessary, I did it because he had been shot serving our country and I didn't want my friend to be in pain.

As my fingers rubbed into the scar tissue I felt Miles stiffen for a few moments and then groan softly, his shoulders relaxing. His head dropped forward and I rubbed along his neck and down his back until I was pretty sure he would fall asleep.

I grinned over at Bass and with a push, shoved Miles face first into the water. He yelped and came up spluttering, wiping his face and glaring at me. Bass and I howled with laughter, until Miles came after me.

My laughter turned to shrieks as he grabbed my waist, throwing me over his shoulder and laughing at my attempts to escape. "Payback's a bitch Becca!" he shouted before tossing me into the deeper end of the pool—carefully avoiding the rocks along the side.

I came up laughing and wiping the hair from my face, reaching down to adjust my bikini top, making sure I wasn't popping out. Miles had climbed out of the river and was drying off with my towel— _annoying—_ "Hey, where you going?" I demanded.

He smiled faintly and pulled his shirt on, "Gotta go see a woman about a thing."

Bass and I exchanged a grin. Miles had been seeing a woman about a thing for a few weeks now, but refused to tell us who it was.

"Give her our best" Bass said with a rakish grin. Miles rolled his eyes and waved, walking away.

Once he was out of earshot Bass turned to me and raised a brow, "So who is it?" he demanded.

I shrugged, I really didn't know. "I dunno. I've tried following him, but he's sneaky."

Bass shook his head, "Thought I taught you better." He smiled and swam over to me, sitting on the rock that Miles had vacated. He leaned against my knees, resting his damp head against them, wrapping an arm around my ankles.

My heart throbbed. It was moments like these that made me think that maybe Bass felt the same way as I did. I reached out instinctively and ran my fingers through his damp hair, watching as his eyes drifted shut.

I was still seeking Jeremy out as a way to scratch my itches, and if he noticed that it was almost always after a meeting with Bass, he had yet to say anything. I swallowed hard; I would need him after this…Bass was driving me crazy, and yet it was making me sick, thinking about what he had just lost.

If he knew…it would make him disgusted in me.

My fingers in his hair stilled at this thought and I closed my eyes, wishing life wasn't so goddamn awful.

Bass reached up and took my hand, pulling it down, holding it gently in his. "What's wrong Becca?" he asked softly.

I shook my head, "Nothing" I lied.

Bass squeezed my hand and I opened my eyes, looking down to find him staring up at me, his bright blue eyes piercing me. My heart stuttered and I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't.

We stared at each other until Bass nodded, standing. My eyes widened as his broad, tanned form loomed over me. His eyes crinkled with warmth as he looked at me and his hand squeezed mine where he still held it.

"You can tell me anything Becca. I've got your back."

My words recited back to me nearly made me crumble and tell him how I felt. Common sense slapped me in the face and I smiled tightly, nodding. I saw sadness enter his eyes and he released my hand, stepping back.

He turned and made his way to the river's edge, "I've also got to go see a woman about a thing."

I choked and tried to pass it off as a laugh, "Ahg- Okay. Who are _you_ seeing?" I asked lightly.

He smiled at me as he pulled his clothes on, "One of the women who was in the army. I want her to start training people for the militia."

I frowned, "I thought we hadn't agreed on that yet."

Bass sighed, "Well, then call a meeting and we can." He sounded annoyed with me for making us have another meeting, but I didn't think we should walk lightly into a decision like this.

I nodded, "Let the guys know I want to talk. I'll be behind you shortly." He nodded sharply and strode away, leaving me to stew in my ever confusing emotions.

My role as a Policy Advisor to the group was great, but it didn't mean I could stop them from doing incredibly stupid shit. If they wanted to, ultimately they could use this militia to override my decisions and make their own.

I had to be okay with that…and I didn't know if I was. I didn't know how to be okay with that.

I sighed and climbed out of the river, drying off and slipping my shoes on before walking slowly back to camp, still pondering the future.

* * *

"Explain to me again why you think the militia is necessary. We've been doing fine without it." I knew I was driving Bass and Miles crazy, but I needed them to be explicit in this if they wanted to convince me.

Miles sighed, "We may have been doing fine without it before this, but Becca, moving forward we're going to be encountering large camps and they're going to fight back. Just having a handful of people to fight isn't going to be enough. We need to have trained militia who can protect us at all times."

Bass nodded, "If we're going to bring this country together, we need people who can fight."

I rolled my shoulders, ignoring my growing headache and wrote a note, nodding. "Fine. I do think that whoever is drafted should be given more rations as an incentive. If they have family they get preference on housing locations in the cities and will make sure that we don't have anyone running out on us and keeping us from having our ranks decimated."

A surprised murmur ran around the table and I glanced up, smiling softly at the men. "I still have tricks up my sleeves gentlemen." I sighed softly, my headache was pulsing behind my eyes, and set my pen down, "I'm convinced that the militia is a good idea, but I think that we will continue to need checks and balances, agreed?" I suggested.

The men around the table nodded and I smiled, reassured. "Great. Is there anything else we need to address?" I asked.

The men shook their heads and I sighed, relieved. I stood and gathered my notepad, walking back to my tent. I kicked my sneakers off and sank down at the table, pouring a glass of water, sipping it gratefully.

The day had only gotten hotter and more humid and my head ached, sending bright waves of pain through my skull. I swore softly and rubbed at my eyes, tugging my hair out of its ponytail, sighing as it tumbled down around my shoulders.

I chugged the water and fought the sick feeling in my stomach as my headache pounded. I stumbled to my feet and fumbled through my packs, looking for painkillers. I whimpered in pain, unable to find any.

Grabbing my sunglasses I slid them on and stumbled down to Bass's tent, my stomach in my throat. Bass looked up at me from his seat at the table where he was reading a book on military tactics and frowned.

"Are you drunk in the middle of the day?" he asked incredulously.

I shook my head and clung to the tent pole. "I think I have a migraine" I whispered. My stomach heaved and I retched, dropping to my knees, my head pounding. Bass swore and was at my side, holding my hair back as I heaved, but nothing came up.

As my stomach calmed I swore, wiping a hand over my face. Bass wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me up, guiding me to his cot. "Sit there" he commanded.

I nodded weakly and closed my eyes, listening to him move about. A few moments later he came close and took my hand, dropping pills into it. Without looking I popped them into my mouth, accepting the glass he pressed into my hand.

I tossed the contents of the glass back and coughed, surprised. Bass had given me whiskey instead of water. My eyes watered and I looked up at Bass, "You should have warned me" I gasped.

He smiled softly at me and grabbed the glass, pushing my shoulder until I laid back. "Shh. Close your eyes." I sighed and nodded, throwing my arm over my face. As the painkillers kicked in my breathing eased and I relaxed, rolling over on my side.

* * *

My heart had nearly jumped out of my chest when Becca had stumbled into my tent and collapsed. Her dark brown eyes, normally so joyfully, had met mine as she had retched and the pain in her eyes had touched something in me. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and make it all go away.

It was profoundly disturbing.

I should have been grieving for Shelley, not feeling this way about my friend.

I looked across the tent to where Becca was sleeping, her shirt riding up, baring her tanned stomach, exposing her pierced belly-button. Her strong arms were thrown up, one lying across her eyes, the other behind her head.

She sighed in her sleep and rolled over, facing me. "Bass" she sighed, her fingers digging into the blanket.

I swore and strode out of the tent, inhaling the muggy air, trying to clear my head. It had only been four weeks since Shelley had died…why was I thinking of Becca like this? I ran a hand over my face and looked up at the darkening sky, wondering what Shelley would have to say about all of this.

It had felt like the walls of my tent were closing in after Shelley had died, but Becca had been there, holding me together, sleeping by my side—holding me when the nightmares made me wake up screaming and shaking.

It certainly didn't stop her from disagreeing with me, or Miles, during our meetings on how to keep the camp moving forward and what decisions should be made—but I had found that I liked it when she argued with us, demanding that her opinion be heard and considered.

I turned back and stared into the tent and stared at her sleeping form, my lips curving into a smile. She was certainly a hell of a woman.

* * *

March 20th, 2016—Philadelphia

I stood in the former Independence Hall and looked around in dry amusement; the building had taken the better part of a year to recover and get in livable condition, but here we were. Bass and Miles and I had made the decision that instead of taking Washington DC as our capitol, we would take Philadelphia.

Our march across the country had met with violent resistance and we had lost countless people. In time though, our numbers had grown as we had moved onwards, and our militia had grown stronger and larger.

The men and women of the militia answered to Miles as "General Matheson" and regarded Bass as a god among men. I snorted softly. Miles and Bass had taken to calling the land they had possessed the Monroe Republic, and Bass was its President.

With no one to stop them and people eager for a leader to protect them, we were quickly rolling through the countryside, taking back the nation. Jeremy and Tom were recruiting more people for the militia daily, training them and swelling our ranks.

I still fought side by side with Miles and Bass, but they were starting to make noise about me staying behind in Philly, to "stay safe." I frowned and stared out the window at the city, watching as people scurried about, repairing and building.

Staying safe here was as unlikely to happen as it would be if I went to the front lines with them. We currently had two fronts; one pushing east towards New Jersey, and another pushing into South Carolina where Bass and Miles had originally started out. They were confident that with the military behind them we would quickly take control.

I wasn't so sure.

There were pockets of heavy resistance, and some people weren't thrilled about the idea of two men and an army rolling through the former United States, taking the land for themselves. Which was where I came in.

As the Policy Advisor and now Ambassador to the Monroe Republic, I had to meet with all aggrieved parties and try to negotiate their acceptance into the Republic—all while fighting in battles, avoiding disease, and not starving to death.

It had been a hard year for food. Without fresh fruits and vegetables we had needed to rely on wild game and wild roots, with scavenged canned goods that were questionable at best. Medicine was scarce.

I ran a hand over my eyes and sighed, I was tired. I had just gotten back from a long week of negotiations with a large camp of people who hadn't wanted to join the Republic, but after a long haggling process, they had agreed.

We had settled on a deal; they would teach us how to grow crops and cross breed different plants successfully, and for three years they wouldn't have to pay taxes. We were going to be rolling out the taxes in the form of food in the next six months, and people were already unhappy.

I couldn't blame them—most people were already stretched thin, and this would be the first crops they would see in a very long time. But if our militia was going to survive they would need the food.

I turned from my window and unbuckled my gun holsters, setting them on the table by the basin of water meant for me to wash with. I stripped; tugging the curtains shut for privacy, and scrubbed my body quickly, wishing I had time for a long soak.

It had been days of just quick basin washes and I felt grimy. Rubbing my hands in the water I watched as dirt scrubbed off my skin, darkening the water. I grabbed a towel and dried my skin before pulling on cleaner clothes, nearly groaning at the thought of clean clothes.

I supposed I shouldn't be so superficial. I laughed softly, thinking of how life used to be; washing machines, showers, perfume. Hell, I was lucky to find deodorant every couple of years. Most of the time we all just ignored each other. I had found that using fresh herbs in the water I bathed with helped, marginally.

I tugged my hair out of its ponytail and quickly braided it, feeling slightly fresher. Strapping my guns back on I opened my door and strode down the hall to Bass's office, knocking before entering.

Bass and Miles were standing over a map but both glanced up and nodded at me before looking back to the map. I strode over and joined them, worried at their intense looks.

"What's going on guys?" I demanded.

"Things are not going well in South Carolina. We need to move the militia there from the front in New Jersey." Miles pointed on the map and I nodded.

Bass shook his head, "We can't! It's too close to here; the rebels there could assault us here."

I lifted a hand, cutting them both off and then pointed to the map, "What if we keep a contingent in reserve at New Jersey while I get help from our new people in New York? They're two days away. If I leave now I can get there and have them at the front by the middle of next week."

I looked up at both men as they considered. I pointed to the map again, "Once our reserves make it, the militia can get their butts down to South Carolina. You can send the new recruits down there for now. Trial by fire."

I hated suggesting it, but it was one of the least worst options we had. Bass was right, if we abandoned the Jersey front, the rebels there could roll right into Philly. We needed better defenses.

After a long moment Miles nodded, "It's the best option we've got. But you're not going alone." He looked at Bass who nodded.

I immediately began shaking my head, "No. No way. You're the President. This Republic is brand new and still figuring things out. There are way too many people out there who would love to kill you." My stomach clenched at the thought.

Bass fixed me with a steely look, his jaw tight, and I knew there wasn't going to be any more argument. I sighed and shook my head, "Goddamn you both" I muttered.

Bass smirked, his eyes warm. "Go pack."

I flipped both he and Miles off and sauntered out of the room, annoyed that they had so easily convinced me to allow Bass to come. I was the fucking Policy woman, and this broke all Policy rules I had.

I yanked all the dirty clothes out of my pack and went to my dresser, shoving the clean clothes stored there into it. My fingers closed around the one impractical item, a pair of lacy underwear, and I hesitated.

I had found them in a looted store here in Philly and by some miracle the bra and underwear set not only matched but it fit. I had promptly taken it and a silk negligee, not even trying to understand what it was that was motivating me.

I had stopped sleeping with Jeremy ages ago, and hadn't found anyone else I was eager to share a cot with, so I don't know who would be seeing these. I know who I wanted to see them…but I doubted that would happen.

Cursing, I tossed the underwear in my pack and closed it, slinging it over my shoulder. A knock at my door startled me and I turned to find Bass there, leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

Had he seen the underwear? _Shit._

"Ready?" he asked, smirking softly.

I nodded and brushed past him, trying to ignore the tingling in my skin when my arm brushed his. We walked down the stairs of the building to where two horses waited for us and quickly mounted, setting off at an even pace that would get us to a good distance from the city before nightfall without winding the horses.

The air was chilly and I zipped my jacket, tugging my sleeves down as we rode. The hours passed in comfortable silence, each of us occasionally breaking the silence before lapsing back. We had years of practice travelling together and no longer felt the need to fill the quiet, and we also knew that rebels and bandits could be on the road—it was better to be quiet.

When we could barely see past the horses' heads we stopped and hobbled them, lighting a small fire. We ate road rations and sat close together, the cold night air making me shiver. Bass tossed his pack against a log and spread his blanket down, leaning back against it, waving to me.

I leaned back against him, spreading my blanket down on top of us. I shivered and Bass wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tighter against him. It wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep for me, but it let Bass stay warm while he stayed on watch.

Hours later he shook me awake and we switched places, Bass reclining back against me, his curly mop of hair tucked under my chin, his feet sticking out from under the blanket towards the fire.

My hand lay on top of the blanket, loosely holding my gun, keeping watch.

When morning came we were both far from rested, but we were alive.

* * *

Two days later we rode into the camp of the people I had just convinced to join the Republic, tired, grimy and achy. Their leader greeted us pleasantly enough and brought us into his house, giving us food and water.

Bass had already agreed to letting me take the lead so I dove in.

"Norman, we need your fighters. I know you and I have an agreement, but as part of the Republic we have a need for you to help us secure the borders against rebels."

Norman stared at me for a long moment and then scoffed, shaking his head, "Not too long ago, we were the rebels."

I nodded, "I know. But you came to see that it's more beneficial to your people to be a part of the Republic than to fight it. These people refuse to see that, even after I've spoken with them. We only ask that your fighters come with us to the New Jersey front and defend it."

Norman frowned and glanced to Bass before looking back at me, "For how long?" he demanded.

I hesitated and then sighed, "I don't know. We need more militia at the southern front, and we need your help now." I glanced at Bass and made a decision. Leaning towards Norman I fixed him with a stern look.

"Norman, I came here with the President of the Republic because we're serious about needing your help. We could have come here with a contingent of militia and forced your people to come with us, but that's not what we want. We want your willing aid. We want you to help as citizens of this Republic. Please help me defend this Republic."

I pled with him at the end, my voice soft. I watched as his face changed from unwilling reluctance to stubborn acceptance. He nodded and sighed, "You're a persuasive woman Miss Flynn."

I smiled faintly, "That's my job." I extended my hand and Norman took it, squeezing it firmly and shaking it. "How many wagons, weapons and horses do you have?" I asked firmly.

Norman grinned, "Straight to it, huh?" he asked. I nodded and he sighed, rubbing his chin, "Well, we have three wagons we can spare to carry the men and women. It'll take two horses apiece to pull em, and each fighter will carry two handguns and a rifle, plus extra ammo. I'll give you a hundred fighters."

My stomach flipped, that was twice what we had been expecting. "That's excellent, thank you Norman."

He nodded and stood, "I'll make sure they're ready to go by the end of the day."

Bass and I stood and Bass extended his hand to Norman, "Thank you Norman."

Norman regarded him for a moment before nodding and taking his hand, "You're welcome President Monroe, but I did this for her." He turned and walked out of the house, leaving us in stunned silence.

* * *

The next two days were a blur of rain, wind, mud, cracked wagon wheels, and more mud. By the time we made it to the Jersey front, every inch of my body was frozen and felt like it was caked in dirt.

We were greeted by the sight of the new recruits, led by Jeremy, defending the front with the remaining militia. Our new troops spread out and fortified the lines, aiding in the defense.

Bass and I were ordered back from the fighting by Jeremy (Bass _hated_ that), and we holed up in a house two miles from the front, watching as the fighting grew fiercer and then relented. As night fell the rebels fell back, leaving our militia to take a firmer grip on the city.

I turned from the windows and in doing so caught a glimpse of my reflection; I had mud streaked down my neck, along the side of my face, and in my hair. I winced and tried to scrub at my face, but it seemed the dirt was ground into my skin.

Bass glanced over at me and grinned, "You look like GI Jane."

I laughed, "Didn't she have a shaved head?" I asked.

He smiled and nodded, "It's something in the eyes. You were amazing with Norman. I didn't realize I've never seen you really at work before."

I flushed and smiled, "You just don't realize when I'm doing it to you. I'm sneakier." I wiggled my eyebrows at him and he laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm fully aware of when you're trying to get something from me. You're a hard woman to resist."

My heart thumped at his words and I watched as Bass's face lit with realization at what he had said. I cleared my throat and gave him a half grin, "You think there's a bathtub in this place? We could heat some water and get clean."

He nodded and walked away, "I'll look for a pot to heat water in" he called over his shoulder.

I went in search of a bathtub and found it on the second floor; clawfoot and porcelain. I leaned down the stairs and shouted, "Did you find a pot?"

A second later Bass's head came around the corner and he nodded, "A few, I filled them with water and they're in the fire outside now." I nodded and turned away, moving to explore the mostly empty house.

When I heard Bass stomping up the stairs multiple times and heard water splashing into the tub I went to explore, hoping that maybe I could take a bath. I peeked into the bathroom and found that the bathtub was only about a quarter of the way full.

"I've got more water heating."

I jumped and whirled, glaring at Bass as he laughed. "Wear a damn bell next time" I hissed. He shook his head and grinned at me. I waved a hand at the tub, "You want to go first?" I offered, praying he would say no.

Bass smirked and shook his head, "After everything you've done for us? You get to go first." I nodded, biting my lip, trying not to take everything he said and imagine it being whispered in my ear as he did dirty, dirty things.

His eyes flickered to where I bit my lip and I quickly released it, running my tongue over the spot. His eyes went to mine and I saw something burning there that stoked the embers of desire that were glowing within me.

Bass stepped back and cleared his throat, "I better get that water."

I nodded and watched him walk away, my body aching with desire. I had a decision to make. I could continue to do nothing, to be Bass's friend, and yearn for him, always wondering if he felt the same…or I could fucking do something about it.

I straightened my shoulders and followed him downstairs and outside to the fire, watching as his head came up, his eyes meeting mine over the flames.

"Is it hot enough?" I murmured. _SHIT... I couldn't have said that any other way?_

His lips curled softly into a smirk and he nodded. I grabbed one of the pots from the fire and carried it carefully upstairs, pouring it into the tub. I heard the door downstairs open and Bass's footsteps coming up the stairs and I swallowed hard.

My eyes tracked him as he entered the bathroom, his shoulders straining under the weight of the heavy the tub was full of water, Bass set the pots aside and wiped his hands off, nodding at me. His face was serious, but his eyes burned. "All yours" he murmured.

I had kicked off my boots and my socks and the tiles were cool under my feet as I walked over. I stared up into his cool blue eyes, mere inches separating us. I reached out and shut the door, locking it with a final sound.

"All ours" I whispered.

Bass raised a brow, his lips ghosting into a smile, "You sure?" he asked softly.

I reached up and wound a hand through his hair, standing up on my toes to bring myself closer. My fingers in his hair scraped against his scalp and he growled softly against my lips which hovered softly against his, barely kissing him.

I brushed against him, feeling his hard body against mine and hummed softly in pleasure before tilting my chin further and capturing his lips, sucking on the bottom one softly for a moment before Bass's hands wound around me, deepening the kiss.

My hand at his waist pushed up his shirt, fingers seeking out soft skin over hard muscle and I groaned into his mouth. I needed to taste him, all of him. God I had wanted it for so long.

His hands pushed at my shirt and a moment later he broke away from me, tugging it up and off. His eyes darkened in pleasure and he shoved his jacket off, reaching behind his head to tug his shirt off in one smooth move that left him bared in the dim light of the lantern.

I backed away and grabbed one of the pots, filling it partially and brought it to the sink, grabbing one of the washcloths I had found. Bass watched me intently as I wet the rag and came over, lifting it to his face.

His eyes drifted closed as I began wiping the dirt from his face and body using long, soft strokes. My fingers trembled, I wanted to touch him. I reached up and stroked his cheekbone, my fingers trailing down softly to his lips and his eyes opened as his lips did.

He gently bit my fingertips, licking them softly and I gasped faintly, a bolt of pleasure running through me. I dropped the washcloth into the pot of water and Bass reached for it, wringing it out before wrapping a hand firmly around my waist and drawing me closer so he could clean me off as I had done to him.

My eyes fluttered shut as the warm water trailed down my skin, dampening my bra, teasing my nipples. Bass's hand at my waist trailed up and tugged my hair out of its braid, running his fingers through it, lifting me up to my toes so he could kiss me.

My fingers dug into his waist as I moaned softly, trying to get him closer. Bass broke away and stepped back, tossing the washcloth into the pot of now dirty water.

His hands were at my jeans a moment later, shoving them down and onto the floor. I stepped out and unhooked my bra, tossing it aside, leaving me naked and aching for him. I backed away and smiled, crooking a finger as I stepped into the tub, hissing at the heat of the water.

Bass watched me with lust filled eyes and quickly stripped his pants and briefs, kicking off his boots and socks. I swallowed hard, gripping the sides of the tub, he was perfect and I wanted him…now.

Bass sauntered over and leaned over me, drawing me up for another searing kiss that sent waves of pleasure through me. My hand trailed from his chest, down his waist, to where his erection stood tall and grasped him, stroking him.

Bass gasped against my mouth and swore, reaching out to grab the sides of the tub as I continued to stroke him. After another moment he knocked my hand aside and murmured in a low rough voice, "Move forward."

I sat forward in the tub and Bass sat behind me, the water level in the tub rising dangerously. His arm wound around my waist, pulling me back against him so that I could feel his erection against my ass, teasing me.

He ran his hand up from my waist and cupped one of my breasts, running the pad of his thumb over my nipple gently, slowly, torturously. "Oh fuck Bass…" I moaned softly, leaning into him, my hips moving in search of friction.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest and his lips moved to my jaw, slowly working up to my ear, biting softly as his hands played with my breasts, teasing. "I want to hear you say my name like that again" he whispered.

He rolled my nipple between his fingers as he bit lightly on my neck and I obliged him, calling out his name again, my hips grinding against his, desperate for him to touch me. I tilted my head and kissed him, reaching up to wind my fingers through his hair, arching against him.

Bass groaned and I pulled my mouth away to whisper, panting slightly, "Touch me Bass." His eyes darkened as he realized what I meant and he nodded. His hands abandoned my breasts and trailed down to my hips, then lower.

I would have cared that I hadn't shaved in months, but Bass didn't seem to care, his fingers eagerly went to work, sliding along my opening and up to my clit, teasing me. His strong fingers began rubbing me slowly, building pressure within my body that had me moaning and gasping.

His lips were at my ear and his low voice began whispering things in my ear that made me moan and thrust against his hand harder.

"I bet you've thought about this Becca. I bet you've touched yourself, thinking of me." His fingers sped up and then slowed making me whine, moving my hips eagerly, aching for release.

"I've thought about you. I tried not to, but I couldn't stop. You make my dick so hard." He thrust his hips against mine, showing me, and I moaned, wanting it, wanting him.

He slid two fingers into me as his thumb continued to stroke my clit and I swear I saw stars. I cried out and began whimpering his name, gasping for release.

"Yes Bass, please! Oh fuck!" I cried out.

With a few final strokes of his fingers inside me and across my clit, I came, shouting his name and seeing black spots across my vision. I collapsed back against his chest, my own heaving from exertion.

Bass ran his hands up and down my thighs, feeling them trembling and laughed faintly, kissing my neck. "I want to see you do that on top of me" he murmured.

My pussy clenched at his words and I moaned softly at the idea. I sat forward and turned to face him partially, smiling, "Let's do it then" I murmured. Bass grinned but held up a finger, leaning around me to grab a bottle of shampoo.

"I want this first" he whispered. I smiled, Bass wanted to wash my hair? I had no problems with that. I tilted my head back and wet it, letting him pour the lavender smelling cream on, rubbing it through my long tresses. I groaned softly at the sensation and squirmed, eager to have his hands on me again.

"All done" he whispered. I nodded and ducked my head back, rinsing my hair. After a moment I stood, suds dripping from my body and stepped from the tub, shivering as the cool air teased my body.

Bass quickly followed me, his eyes dark with lust. I unlatched the bathroom door and grabbed his hand, leading him down the hall to a bedroom I had seen earlier. The bed still had a quilt on it and I tugged him onto the bed, our warm wet limbs combining in a tangle.

My fingers drug through Bass's hair and I stared up into his blue eyes, stunned this was happening, overjoyed, and aching to have him inside me. He leaned in and kissed me, softly, sweetly, and I swear my heart broke.

I wound my leg around his hip and tilted my hips up, brushing my wet entrance against him and we both moaned. His hand gripped my hip and the head of his cock teased me, slipping between my folds, but never entering.

"I will kill you Bass" I gasped. He laughed softly and a moment later he thrust his hips, entering me in one smooth move that cut off his laugh, turning it into a moan, mirroring mine. My fingers raked down his back and I thrust against him, biting my lip.

As Bass began to thrust he grabbed my leg and hitched it higher around his waist, drawing himself deeper. I cried out and gasped his name, clutching onto him. My body felt like it was on fire, but I wanted more.

My hips moved against his, our cries filling the room.

"Ah! Ah! Oh Bass!" I moaned, aching for release. I pushed at his shoulder and he grabbed my waist, rolling us over so that I sat astride him. I reached down and ran my hands over his chest as I began rolling my hips slowly, eliciting a groan from him.

His eyes were focused on me, running over my body and then locking on mine, his mouth praising every move I made.

"Fuck Becca, yea. You're gorgeous."

His hands at my hips held me tight, just like I wanted and I arched against him, moaning as he thrust roughly against me. His hand trailed up and began rolling my nipple, making me grind harder against him.

"Yea Bass, like that."

I was close…I watched him as my fingers trailed down to my clit, swirling it, and I gasped his name, riding him harder. His hand at my waist gripped me harder as he responded in kind and I thought my body might explode.

It was almost too much…and not enough.

I whimpered and rubbed harder on my clit, whimpering his name. "Fuck Bass, yes, yes, yes!"

He nodded and moaned, "That's it Becca, come for me." His fingers pinched on my breasts and his hips moved wildly within me, his breath gasping, and I knew he had to be close. The thought of that pushed me over the edge and I came, limbs trembling as a flood of heat rushed through me, my pussy clenching around him, flooding him.

Bass cried out and thrust into me, driving me higher as he came, crying out my name. "Yes Becca! Yes."

Our movements slowly stilled and our hands found each other, drawing each other close. I collapsed against his chest, hearing his thundering like mine was. His fingers trailed up and down my back, a content sigh escaping him.

As my skin cooled I shivered against him. Bass made a soft noise and rolled, laying me beside him before tugging the quilt up around us. His arm moved around my waist, drawing me close to run his mouth over my neck softly.

I smiled and ran my fingers over his back, my body still humming.

A loud crashing noise from downstairs jolted both of us, tearing us apart. We were out of bed in a second, scrambling for clothes and weapons. Within minutes we were dressed and armed. I could hear the door opening downstairs and multiple pairs of feet clomping around.

"President Monroe and the Ambassador were last seen heading in here. We need to let them know the situation at the front."

Jeremy's voice brought me up short. Sighing I glanced over at Bass and grinned. I quickly braided my hair as we walked downstairs, praying that I didn't look like we had just had sex. Hopefully I didn't have any visible hickeys.

As we walked into the kitchen the trio of men turned to us and Jeremy regarded me for a moment before standing to attention when Bass walked up beside me. "Sir, we have news from the front."

Bass nodded and Jeremy continued, "The rebels have fled and we believe we have a secure line. My men and I will stay here to hold the line, but we believe it's safe for you to return to the Capitol."

Bass smiled, "Excellent. Thank you all for your hard work."

The men nodded and Jeremy turned to follow them out the door when Bass stopped him, "Jeremy, a moment."

He paused and turned to face Bass. Bass stared him down and then spoke softly, "You won't speak of what you saw here, understood?"

Jeremy's eyes flickered to me and I sighed, frustrated. Trust Bass to make an issue out of this. Jeremy nodded and Bass nodded sharply, "Good. Dismissed."

When Jeremy had left I turned to Bass, frowning, "Was that necessary? He wouldn't have said anything anyway."

Bass smiled faintly and reached out, grasping my hip to draw me close. "But now he knows that you're no longer a free agent. He's not going to try anything with you."

I raised my brows, "Is this you laying claim like some sort of barbarian?" I asked frowning.

Bass smirked and leaned in, kissing me searingly. "I thought I already did that upstairs" he murmured.

I pulled back and gave him a serious look, "I'm not property Sebastian, you don't own me. But I won't ever cheat on you, and I'll always have your back." I smiled faintly and kissed him, "Just so we're clear, so did I. But if you ever fuck around on me, I'll kill you, President of the Republic or no."

He stared at me for a long moment before nodding, brushing a kiss across my lips. "We should get on the road" he murmured. I nodded and we moved quickly, packing our gear and heading out to saddle the horses.

We would ride through the night and rest tomorrow, doing the same thing the next day until we were back in Philly. I flipped my hood up against the rain and watched Bass's strong form ahead of me as we rode out, a flutter in my stomach.

Grinning, I decided I was grateful it was a two day ride back home.

* * *

_**AN: Hey everyone, super long chapter here, but I think you'll all be enjoying it! I hope you'll all review and let me know what you think so far. I'm taking my time to expose who Bass was before things went to hell, and how things changed, and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you all for reading!** _


	9. Total Surrender

**March 26th, 2016**

Rain pounded down on the small windows of the cabin, creating a soothing rhythm that eased my road weary mind. Since we had left from the Jersey front it had rained non-stop, chilling both Bass and I to the bone.

Fingers trailed up my back and I smiled faintly into the musty pillow on the dusty bed…speaking of Bass…I turned my head and smirked at him, "Are you trying to start something here?" I murmured.

Bass smirked back, turned on his side and nuzzled up against me, his fingers still trailing over my back. "Mmm, maybe" he whispered. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my shoulder, "I can't help but notice you look cold" he murmured.

I rolled over, leaning into his chest, running a hand up under his shirt with a grin, "Hmm, you feel a bit chilly too, maybe I should warm you up" I suggested with a lift of my brow. Bass chuckled softly and I could feel it in my skin, sending a soft thrum of delight through me.

A sudden large and powerful yawn forced me to cover my mouth, my jaw cracking with the force of the yawn. Bass chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to my jaw, "Get some sleep" he murmured, pulling me into his arms, rolling us back against the flat pillows.

I want to say I objected, but good lord I was tired. I nodded and snuggled into him, my eyes drifting shut, my fingers creeping into the V of his shirt to rest against his warm skin. I sighed contentedly and smiled when Bass's hand tightened on my hip.

I felt it when his breathing began to slow and his grip on me loosened, his body slipping into sleep. I looked up at him through half shut eyes and smiled, he looked at peace. It was so different from how he looked during the day; reserved, authoritative, even angry.

As I fell asleep I wondered if it could always be like this.

* * *

The sudden crashing of the cabin door against the wall roused me from my sleep, sending me sprawling to my feet, disoriented but ready. Bass was awake behind me, mumbling something I couldn't understand, and in the main room of the cabin I could hear people moving around.

I grabbed my gun and looked over my shoulder to see Bass arming himself similarly. I could hear the people in the other room rummaging through the cabinets and discussing something…I crept closer to the door and strained to hear.

"I'm telling you, they came this way. It was the President of the Republic and a woman."

"It's the Ambassador for the Republic, from what I've heard."

"What do I care who she is? Damn. It only matters that we kill them and stop them from taking over."

I glanced over at Bass, raising a brow, wondering if he could hear this. He glanced up at me as he loaded his gun, giving me a questioning look. Huh, apparently he hadn't heard.

Bass inched up beside me and listened as the men continued to discuss killing us as they ransacked the outer area of the cabin. I turned towards him and barely whispered into his ear, "It sounds like two."

He nodded and I continued, "If we're quick we can take them out." We would need to blow through the door and kill them quickly if we wanted to be rid of them. Bass nodded and we both readied ourselves, taking a quick breath before I threw open the door and we charged forward.

The men in the room looked up in shock at our entrance and a moment later were dead, bullets entering their heads and hearts. I lowered my gun and glanced around, checking for other people inside and then stepping outside to ensure there weren't more would be assassins waiting for us to leave.

A bullet slammed into the wood of the cabin beside my head and I dropped, flinching as splinters bit into my skin. I could hear Bass screaming my name behind me as more bullets whistled past me and slammed into the wood.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bass lift his gun and return fire, the sound of the muzzle blast deafening. I scrambled around the corner of the cabin and lifted my own gun, firing in the direction of the muzzle flares.

I heard someone scream and a moment later the gunfire ceased. I lowered my gun slowly and took a shaky breath, adrenaline screaming through my veins. Bass moved swiftly past me, running to the heavy brush to check on our shooter.

He came back a few minutes later, holstering his gun. He gave me a nod, "He's dead." I gave him a ghost of a smile and stood, swaying as my head pounded and my leg throbbed. I glanced down and let out a cry of surprise, I had been shot.

I hadn't even felt it in the heat and adrenaline of the firefight, but I certainly felt it now.

Bass turned towards me at my cry and was at my side in an instant at the sight of the bullet hole in my leg. He quickly wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me inside, lowering me into a rickety wooden chair.

"Let's get your pants off so I can dress this" he murmured, reaching for my belt buckle.

I grinned at him through gritted teeth, "You know…you don't have to wait for me to get shot to take my pants off" I joked weakly.

Bass gave me a quelling look, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. He gently tugged my pants off, trying to be gentle with my wound, but I hissed as it throbbed nonetheless. He gently lifted my left leg onto his knee, inspecting the wound.

After a moment he nodded, "It looks like it's close to the bone, it's going to hurt coming out. I'll get you something to bite on." He set my leg down gently and went to our bags, digging through until he found our standard field kit.

A moment later he came back, kneeling in front of me, opening the kit and handing me a belt in the same motion. I grimaced and took it, gripping it tightly. Bass nodded up at me, "Get ready, I'm going to start."

I groaned softly and slid the belt strap between my teeth as he lifted my leg onto his knee, breathing heavily out of my nose. When he poured the antiseptic over the wound I gasped and groaned, shuddering under his firm grip.

Bass poured more over the tweezers and glanced up at me for a moment before slipping them into my wound. I could feel hot blood rush down my leg and the pain….god the pain. It felt like a taser had been shoved into my leg and turned up full blast.

I cried and gripped the body of the chair, trying not to writhe against Bass's movements. A moment later Bass let out a cry of triumph and held up the bullet before tossing it aside and pouring more antiseptic over the wound.

I whimpered and felt the world swirl around me, black spots appearing in my eyes. I felt Bass wrapping my leg and moments later his arms wrapped around me, lifting me from the chair and carrying me back to the bed we had been laying in just a short time before.

I groaned as my leg bumped against the bed and Bass whispered a soft apology. He brushed my hair back and laid a hand on my brow, his face lined with worry. I tried to arrange my face into a smile, but must have failed because he still looked worried.

"I-I'm okay Bass…p-promise" I whispered.

He shook his head and frowned at me, "Just rest. I'm going to secure this place."

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling like the whole world was spinning and my body was pounding. I could hear his footsteps retreating as my stomach cramped and roiled, my whole body trembling with pain.

I took deep even breaths, trying to keep from passing out or vomiting from the pain. I could hear Bass swearing in the distance and loud thudding noises as he dragged the men's bodies from the house.

I tried to concentrate on the sound of the rain, letting its white noise soothe me; reminding me of the app I had on my long dead phone that I had used to fall asleep during college. Eventually it worked and I began to doze, albeit fitfully.

I stirred when the mattress shifted, feeling a body next to mine. I could smell sweat on Bass's skin as he rolled towards me, his hand snaking across my stomach as he leaned over me. I cracked my eyes open and tried to smile at him, but the faint light in the room made my head pound in an ugly way, so I quickly slammed them shut again.

"How are you feeling?" Bass whispered, his fingers trailing across the skin of my stomach.

"Like shit" I whispered back. Bass made a soft noise and leaned in, brushing a kiss across my forehead.

"Open your mouth" he murmured softly. I cracked an eye, giving him a suspicious, skeptical look. Bass smirked at me and held up a bottle of painkillers, shaking it to rattle the pills inside. "Open up and the pain goes away" he ordered softly.

My eyes slid closed again and I opened my mouth gratefully, feeling the pills slip onto my tongue, followed by the cool rush of water. I swallowed and sighed tiredly, eager for the painkillers to kick in.

Bass gently began to trace his fingers over my face, his body barely touching mine, and I could feel the lines of tension in his body where our limbs did meet. He was worried about me, and it would have made me smile if I wasn't in so much pain and so exhausted.

Eventually the gentle strokes of his fingers lulled me to sleep, the pain fading to a dull roar.

* * *

The next time I awoke there was no light outside the windows in the cabin and the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle. My head still felt stuffed with cotton and my leg throbbed with fiery pain when I moved to sit up, making me grit my teeth, but I fought through the sensation and swung my legs over the side of the bed, wondering where Bass was.

Noises from the main area of the cabin answered my silent question, and the faint scent of food cooking teased my dull appetite into a roar. My pants were hanging off the back of a nearby chair, just out of reach.

Bracing myself, I leaned forward and balanced on one leg, my wounded left leg screaming in protest, despite my lack of pressure on it, and snatched my pants off the chair. Collapsing back against the mattress, I exhaled sharply and closed my eyes, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

When the world had righted itself I carefully began pulling the jeans on, biting my tongue as they dragged over my bandaged wound. Screaming would not be the best way to alert Bass that I was awake.

In fact, if he saw me right now, I was 100 percent sure he would be pissed to see me up and attempting to be about. By the time I had the jeans up to my hips, zipped, and buttoned, a cold sweat had broken out on my face and chest, and I felt like throwing up once again.

There was almost no way I could make it to the other room. Except for the fact that I had to. We had to get back to Philadelphia, and we couldn't afford to stay here with me injured and Bass at risk of being attacked.

With this in mind, I stood up from the bed, my stomach flopping, my head swimming, and began hobbling towards the door. It felt like an eternity before I made it and twisted the handle, yanking it open and leaned against the frame, watching as Bass's head twisted around, his eyes wide with surprise, then narrowing in anger.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing Becca?" he demanded, crossing the room in three long strides. I'd always envied his ability to do that, his six foot frame meant he was able to eat up the ground much faster than I was, and he tended to make a much more imposing figure.

I gave him a weak smile, "Just getting up and about. I was getting tired of lying around." That was a blatant lie. I felt like I could sleep for another week.

Bass glared at me and grabbed my arm, spinning me around towards the bedroom, "Bullshit. You're going back to bed. You need to rest until you're strong enough to ride."

I tugged my arm out of his grasp and gave him a dirty look, "And what about the not so friendly gentlemen we disposed of Bass? Donuts to dollars they had friends waiting on them, and when they don't come back with our bodies the friends are going to come looking for them."

The look on Bass's face meant he had already realized what I was telling him, what I didn't understand was why he continued to try to shove me towards the bed. He shook his head, "You need rest Becca, the rest can wait."

I stumbled back and caught myself on the wrought iron footer of the bed, resting there for a moment, giving him an exasperated look. "Like hell we can just rest here. Bass, we need to leave, _now._ Those men almost killed us, and if they have reinforcements, they'll succeed next time. We need to make it back to Philly alive which means we need to go."

I laid a gentle hand on his arm and gave him a pleading look, "Bass, if you want this Republic to succeed, it needs both of us alive. We need to go, and we need to be smart. Bandage my leg tightly and we'll cauterize it if we have to, but we're going."

Bass's face was stricken as he stared down at me, his emotions clearly warring within him. After a long silent moment he nodded, "Okay" his voice barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and nodded again, stronger this time.

"We'll cauterize it and bandage it tightly. But you need to eat something before we leave." He gave me a no nonsense look that dared me to argue and I lifted my hands in surrender, nodding my agreement.

"That's fine, as long as it can be after we take care of the wound. I'd prefer not to throw up everything." Bass nodded a touch of humor in his eyes as he took my hand and gently led me into the outer area of the cabin.

He already had a fire going for making dinner, so heating a knife in the coals wasn't hard. Feeling my skin searing and smelling my flesh burning? I nearly passed out, and definitely threw up.

Bass gave me a moment before handing me a bottle of water, brushing my hair back from my face gently as he murmured, "The worst is over now." I nodded and sipped the water, grateful for its cool blessing on my raw throat.

After a few moments Bass cleaned the wound (another excruciating experience) and wrapped it tightly before helping me shimmy back into my pants. It was another hour before I felt secure enough in the stability of my stomach to eat something and soon after Bass packed our bags and loaded them onto the horses.

Bass boosted me into the saddle, watching as I settled, and I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but my leg was throbbing like my heart was in the wound and not in my chest. He frowned deeply and shook his head, "You're paler than a sheet" he muttered.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment, "Well, I feel like a hundred miles of bad road so…" I trailed off and opened my eyes, giving him a skeptical look before making a soft noise to my horse and pointing it towards Philly.

There was nothing I could do about how I looked. I felt worse. The only thing I could worry about now was getting us home safe.

* * *

We thundered down the road, mud flying up around us and bullets whizzing past us. The men who had tried to kill us had definitely had friends, and they had found us.

We were an hour from Philly and the men had been pursuing us for hours over the road, through the forest, and across the fields. Our horses were failing and I was scared we were going to have to abandon them and face them in hand to hand combat.

If that happened, Bass and I might not survive. I glanced back and saw that the men were gaining. "Fuck!" I swore, ducking as another bullet whizzed by.

I needed to come up with a plan, and fast.

I glanced ahead of me to where Bass was and further ahead to where the bridge was that would get us safely to the city. We had considered blowing the bridge up when we had taken the city to ensure it was safe, but it was one of the few egress and ingress points left that was held securely by the Republic, so we had refrained from destroying it.

I urged my horse faster and passed ahead of Bass, heading for the bridge. When I crossed over I pulled on the reins, dragging the horse to a halt and scrambled off, ignoring the screaming pain in my leg.

Yanking my pack off I pulled out bundles of TNT that we had carried with us from Jersey (just in case—you never know when you'll need explosives on the front) and began wiring them to the bridge.

I heard incoming hoof beats and lit the fuses, running to my horse as Bass crossed the bridge. I got one foot in the stirrups, laying half across the saddle, urging her forward as the fuses burnt.

A moment later I heard the hoof beats of our pursuers, and then the explosions happened, sending concussive blasts through the air that were hot enough to dry the rain from my skin. I heard the screams of both men and horses and chanced a glance over my shoulder, immediately wishing I hadn't.

Shuddering, I twisted into the saddle, groaning as my leg throbbed. As we rounded the curve in the road I glanced back again and sighed softly; there was no one pursuing us. I slowed my horse and shouted for Bass, pointing over my shoulder to indicate our lack of pursuers.

He nodded and slowed his horse as well, patting its neck for a moment before giving me a broad grin. "Quick thinking" he complimented me.

I nodded and swallowed hard, trying to summon up a smile. I loved horses. The scent of burning flesh and hair was going to haunt me for a very long time….

We rode in silence for a long time, each of us lost to our own thoughts as the rain continued to fall. When the city came into view I urged my horse a little faster and moved past Bass, making my way to the stables.

As I slid off and my feet touched the ground, my knees buckled, the pain in my leg nearly blinding. Bass was at my side in an instant, his arm winding around my waist to pull me back up, his body solidly against my back.

"Hey, woah. I got you" he murmured.

Every inch of my body hurt in a million different ways, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Bass shifted and kept his arm around my waist as stable hands led our horses away and began leading me towards Independence Hall—our home.

When I stumbled on the stairs Bass didn't hesitate, he just swept his arms around me and lifted me, carrying me up the stairs. My head lolled onto his shoulder and my eyes drifted shut as my hand rested on his chest.

A moment later I heard a commotion and the sounds resolved into Miles's voice.

"What the hell happened Bass?!"

"She got shot. We were attacked by rebels on our way back and she blew the bridge, saved our ass. She needs a doctor, _now._ "

"Goddamn it Bass, you were supposed to protect her!"

I made a noise of protest and opened my eyes faintly, "I…don't…need…protection" I protested softly.

Miles turned towards my voice and glared down at me, but the look held no heat, only concern. "Like hell. There's no way you're going out to the front again."

I narrowed my eyes at him and lifted a hand to flip him off. His lips curved into a weak smile and he shook his head as he followed Bass down the halls to my rooms. Miles hovered as Bass set me down carefully on the bed, sitting beside me.

He gently began removing my boots and pants, ignoring Miles's protests. I gave Miles a weak smile before my eyes drifted shut, "Nothing he hasn't seen before" I murmured.

The soft choking noise Miles made was enough to make my smile grow, tired as I was. I could hear Bass laugh softly and his hands on my skin were gentle as he tugged my jeans off. I heard him swear and I already knew what he was seeing—my wound had reopened.

I could feel it bleeding, and I shivered, feeling cold.

Bass laid a hand on my forehead, "You're burning up" he murmured. A moment later a blanket rested over me and I smiled faintly.

"Where's the doc?" Bass demanded.

"He's on his way."

"Get him here faster, she's got an infection."

Miles stomped from the room and I felt Bass take my hand as the lights behind my eyelids spun. My breathing slowed and the blanket on top of me grew heavier, more comforting. I sighed and snuggled into it, "G'night Bass" I whispered.

His hand squeezing mine was the last thing I felt.

* * *

**April 15th, 2016**

I sank down gratefully into the large tub of hot water, moaning softly as it enveloped my sore body. It had been three weeks since my death defying escape from the Jersey front with Bass, and the infection that I had gotten from being shot had been awful.

The doctor had thought the infection was in the bone and had wanted to take my leg off below the knee, but Bass had fought him, demanding he try harder to fight the infection. Luckily for me, Bass had been right.

I had a small limp, but with therapy each day, it was getting better. What wasn't getting better was Bass and I. After getting shot and our return to Philly, he hadn't touched me in any significant way.

Any time I tried to start something he backed away, a polite smile on his face, and murmured something about "meetings". It was utter horseshit.

Frowning, I scrubbed my skin absently as I pondered the situation and wondered if he would even notice that my birthday was in three days. Miles knew, he had asked if I wanted anything special, and I had told him that a bottle of whiskey was fine—if he could find it.

Miles knew that things were different between Bass and me, mostly because I had confessed it to him. He had looked wide eyed and supremely uncomfortable, but had after a moment sighed and shook his head, giving me a tired look.

"Listen kid, Bass…he doesn't do well with connecting. His family…they all died."

I had nodded, remembering what Miles had told me about his family. With Shelley and the baby on top of that…it made a twisted kind of sense that he was pulling away. He was scared. I just needed to figure out a way to get rid of that fear.

A knock at my bedroom door startled me out of my reverie. "Who is it?" I called, briefly hoping it was Bass.

"Jeremy, ma'am."

I sighed, of course it wasn't Bass. I sank lower in the water until it was up to my chin and called out for him to enter. A moment later the door swung inward and Jeremy strode in, coming to an awkward halt when he saw me in the tub.

He flushed and turned away, stammering. "I-I'm sorry Becca, I didn't realize."

I laughed softly, "It's cool Jer, nothing you haven't seen before. What's up?"

He hesitated a moment before turning around, keeping his gaze trained on the window across the room. "The President and General would like to see you, immediately."

I lifted a brow, "Did they say what this was regarding?" I asked curiously.

Jeremy gave me a quick smirk before glancing away again, "You really have to ask?" he quipped.

I laughed softly and shook my head, "True." Sighing, I ducked my head under the water and scrubbed at my hair, rinsing the soap out before surfacing and wiping my face off. When I stood I saw Jeremy flinch back and laughed at his reaction.

I leaned over and grabbed my towel off the chair, wrapping it around me. "Let them know I'm on my way, will you Jer?" I asked politely, smiling when he nodded and darted from the room. Shaking my head, I quickly toweled off and dressed, running a brush through my hair before braiding it.

I walked quickly to Bass's office, my limp more pronounced after my therapy session. In an hour or two it would ease and in a few more hours my gait would be nearly even. The doctor was confident that within a few more weeks it would be back to normal, which was exactly what I wanted to hear.

I pushed the doors to Bass's office open, knocking once, and shut them behind me. Miles and Bass glanced up before turning their attention back to the papers in Miles's hands. I frowned and strode over, reaching out to snatch them away.

Both men made noises of protest but quelled at the look on my face. Whatever the reason for them summoning me, I needed to be kept abreast of all important documents, and these clearly were.

As I read my brows rose until they hurt. When I looked up I could tell my expression matched what theirs probably had been upon receipt of these documents because both men just nodded. Giving them incredulous looks I shook the papers, "Is she serious?" I demanded.

"Total surrender? We haven't even encroached into Georgia, and the woman wants us to surrender not just that territory, but North and South Carolina? She's mad!" my voice had risen to a near shout by the end and both Miles and Bass were grimacing, nodding.

I tossed the papers aside and took a deep steadying breath, running a hand over my face before shaking my head. "Goddamn. Okay, well, we obviously can't send one of the other minor Ambassadors. I need to go and talk to her."

"No!"

"Absolutely not."

I lifted my chin, tightening my jaw, narrowing my eyes slightly at both men and cleared my throat, "Mmm, excuse me? I'm pretty sure I heard both of you just try to stop me from doing my job. If either of you tries to reason with her, we're going to war. I'm the only person in this room that has been even remotely successful at negotiating with the rebels, which means you need me to go talk to this woman."

Miles opened his mouth and I shook my head, "Uh-huh, I'm not done. Jersey needs to remain secure, and for that, you need to take a trip to the front. Then you send Jeremy there to make sure it continues to remain secure."

I rounded on Bass, "You, stay here. I'm acting under your authority while I'm in Georgia. Give me a guard of ten men, plus a group of messengers. Three should do it."

Bass narrowed his eyes at me and I could read the frustration there, plain as day. Frankly, I didn't give a damn. He had pushed me away for weeks and now I needed to do my job, not worry about his feelings.

After a moment he tilted his chin down and shook his head, "I don't like it. Too much could go wrong. I should go with you."

I laughed dryly, "Too much already has gone wrong. I got shot, rebels attack our fronts every day, our militia men are dying, our crops are barely surviving…Bass, we can't take another front opening up."

I softened my tone at the look on his face, "I have to do this. Trust me to do what needs to be done."

After a moment Miles stepped forward and laid a hand on Bass's shoulder, "It'll be okay Bass" he murmured. I nodded, giving both of them a reassuring smile. A long minute passed before Bass nodded and I felt my shoulders drop in relief.

"Good. I'm going to go pack. I'm taking these with me to study. I need to try and get in her head on the road. If you need anything, you know where to find me." I nodded at both men before snatching the papers off the desk and striding out of the room.

Despite the inherent danger of the situation, my pulse thrummed with excitement. It had been weeks since I had been outside of the city, and since I had been injured I hadn't been allowed out of Independence Hall.

I had grown bored very quickly, even with all the books available and with Miles attempting to keep me busy with "work". I packed practically, road travel between here and Georgia was rough and wild which meant I would need my clothing to stand up to such conditions.

As I was choosing my outfits I heard the door creak open behind me, heavy boot steps crossing the bare wood a moment later. I could a presence behind me, and felt breath across my neck. I lifted a tank top out of my dresser and folded it, setting it aside before reaching for another shirt.

"Don't go" Bass murmured, his words floating across my skin.

My fingers knotted in the shirt I had grabbed, frustration rushing through me. _Don't go?_ I struggled, reminding myself of what Miles had said, trying not to get angry with Bass.

"Becca…just don't do anything stupid."

The emotions I had been trying to hold back snapped and I tossed aside the shirt whirling around to glare at him. " _Don't do anything stupid?"_ I hissed. To his credit, Bass looked scared at my tone as he backed away.

I lifted a finger, jabbing it in his chest, "The only stupid thing I've done is think that you were worth my time. Goddamn it Bass, I told you not to fuck around on me."

Bass's brow furrowed; confusion plain on his face. "I never!" he exclaimed. He shook his head vehemently, "I never cheated on you" he denied.

I sighed, exasperated. "That's not what I meant! I got shot and I got really sick and instead of sticking by me you pulled away! I would never do that to you Bass." I threw my hands up in frustration, "I get that you lost your family, Shelley and the baby, and that makes it hard for you to expect that I'll stick around, but Bass, I'm not planning on going anywhere."

He stared at me for a long time, saying nothing. His eyes burned with some unspoken emotion and his hands clenched at his sides, his mouth pinched shut.

Shaking my head in disgust, I turned away to resume packing.

A hand wound around my wrist and whirled me around, slamming me into his chest as his other hand snaked around my waist, his lips capturing mine in a bruising kiss that stole my breath in an instant and set my skin on fire.

My fingers found their way into his hair, drawing him somehow closer, a soft moan coming from my throat as his lips moved against mine, slipping away to let us gasp for air for a breath and then coming back to steal it all away again.

After what seemed like eternity Bass broke away and stared at me, his gaze heavier than before. I gave him a shaky smile and it seemed to do something because he shook his head softly before he half turned, whispering, "You are going somewhere, you're leaving right now."

His hand broke from mine and I watched him walk from the room, feeling like something had broken between us. I stood staring at the door for a long time until the numbness settled into my chest like a shot of Novocain.

Turning back to my packing I moved like an automaton until my bag was stuffed and I slung it over my shoulder, striding from the room and through the halls until I was at Miles's office. Less grand than Bass's, it suited him.

Knocking sharply, I shoved the door open and nodded at Miles, not bothering to smile. I don't think I knew how anymore. Miles stared at me, frowning.

"What happened?" he asked, sounding concerned.

I shrugged and tossed my bag into a chair by the door, "What needed to I guess." Miles's brows lifted and he stood, crossing the room to stare down at me. His gaze was for once warm as he slung an arm around my shoulders.

"I doubt that kid. I'll talk to him."

I shook my head, "Don't. He…." I trailed off and lifted my shoulders, "He's made a choice."

Miles sighed and shook his head, "An idiotic one. Now listen, your guard is downstairs along with your messengers. I want you to be as careful as possible, you understand me?" he demanded.

I nodded and gave him what I hoped passed for a reassuring look. It must have worked because he nodded, squeezing my shoulder, before grabbing my bag and leading me out of the room. We walked quietly down to meet my guard and after my bag had been secured to my horse and I had mounted I managed to work up a small smile for Miles.

"Be safe Miles, if I find out you got hurt or died, I'm going to kill you."

Miles smirked softly and slapped the flank of my horse, sending it lurching forward. "Same to you kid. Same to you."

The faint smile on my lips faded when I glanced up at the building and saw Bass staring down from the window. Our eyes met for a long moment before he turned away, letting the drapes fall.

Same to you.

* * *

_**AN: Hey guys! I thought I knew where this chapter was going and then it took an abrupt turn at then end and I really ended up liking it better! So I hope you do too! Please review, I would LOVE to hear what you think! Thank you for following/favoriting/reading!** _


	10. Letters to Home

**June 10th, 2016**

Sweat ran down my neck, trailing unpleasantly down my clavicle to pool in my bra, soaking into the already damp fabric. I took deep controlling breaths, my eyes closed against the harsh sunlight. I could hear the breaths of others around me, but paid them no heed, concentrating instead on my own thoughts, controlling everything within me.

It had been nearly two months since I had come to Atlanta, and in that time I had learned a great deal about their culture, their farming techniques, and their political beliefs. My time with the leader of the Georgia Federation, Kelly Foster, had been unique.

She was a firmly spoken woman with an intelligence that was frankly a little worrisome to me, considering it was keeping me trapped here. Well…that and Bass's reticence to agree to terms.

I sighed in frustration and rolled my shoulders, trying to concentrate. I had taken up yoga and meditation as a means of relaxing…but today was unbearably hot and I had just received another letter from Bass.

I switched into another pose and felt more sweat run down my spine. I leaned forward, extending my leg and felt my muscles tremble. It felt wonderful. All I wanted was to find some kind of peace; my days were fraught with tense meetings, arguments and when that wasn't happening, boredom from being trapped in my quarters.

I slowly stood upright and shook out my arms, walking over to my window to lean out the sash and try to catch the nearly non-existent breeze. In the streets below people walked about happily, calling out to each other, children running around playing, there was even a farmers market.

I sighed; it was so different than back home. Despite Philly being inhabited, it had never looked like this. I had started writing to Bass and Miles my ideas for the city so that we could try and make life better for the people who lived within the Republic, but it seemed that only Miles was taking my advice well.

Bass…

I leaned back in from the window and glanced at the letter lying on my desk bearing his signature. With a groan I leaned over and snatched it up before sinking down onto the window sill, my feet hanging out of the building.

Slipping a finger beneath the seam I tore it open and pulled out Bass's letter, almost wishing I didn't have to read it.

_Dear Becca,_

_I don't know what to say to you. I guess all I can say is that I will see you soon. This has all gone on far too long. I need you back._

_Yours,_

_Bass_

I stared down at the letter in shock. _Bass was coming here?_ His last letters had been brimming with frustration at my inability to resolve the situation and had threatened to invade to get me back, but I had always been able to talk him out of it.

Now it seemed he had decided that it was time for him to step in.

I couldn't disagree at this point; President Foster was being recalcitrant, demanding more and more land from the Monroe Republic in return for peace. My arrival had been…interesting.

**April 20th, 2016**

_I swung down from my horse, my ass sore from riding for so many days. Sweat soaked into every crevice of my body and I knew I smelled like horse, dirt, and sweat. Not the best first impression I could make on the President of the Georgia Federation, but I supposed it would have to do._

_The doors to the large regal building in front of me swung open and a thin woman with curly brown hair strode forward, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glanced over our gathered group._

_We had been allowed into the city after the guards had thoroughly searched our party and determined we held no explosives, only small arms. They seemed extremely disgruntled to have to let us into the city, but since we were here at the invite of the President, there was nothing they could do._

_President Foster strode up to me and regarded me for a moment, a speculative gleam in her eye. I cocked my hip and raised a brow at her, waiting for her to say something. Her lips quirked up on one side and she sighed softly before nodding sharply._

_"_ _It's a pleasure to meet you in person Ms. Flynn. Your letters made you seem much older."_

_I smirked, "That's a poor assumption to make. Besides, we caught more than enough of your spies that I hardly think you didn't know how old I am, let alone what I look like."I watched as her lips curled into a smile and grinned at her in return._

_"_ _Well Ms. Flynn, it seems most of what I've heard of you is true. Sharp tongue, sharp wit. I think we'll get along just fine."Her tone didn't indicate that we would get along though; it was sharper than that, like she was waiting to test me._

_I nodded and gave her a thin smile, shifting so I stood a little taller. Despite her being close to my mother's age, I felt no maternal sympathies from her, no light in her eyes that indicated any kind of kindness._

_She was staring at our group with an intensity that made me nervous, there was something calculating in her eyes. After a moment she brushed her hair back and returned her sharp gaze to me, "You brought a lot of men with you. I assure you, it wasn't necessary."_

_My lips tightened and I fought a frown, my shoulders tightening in anger. "I can see why you might feel that way Madame President; however these men are loyal to me and to the Monroe Republic. It is their duty to protect me and to ensure that I return to the Republic safely, no more. They mean no harm to you or your people."_

_A thin smile pursed her lips._

_"_ _Hmm, well, be that as it may, I think you will only need half of your men." Her expression dared me to argue._

_I frowned this time, shifting my hands towards the guns at my hips. The soldiers surrounding her frowned and stepped forward, their expressions menacing._

_"_ _Madame President, these men may be here for my protection, but please don't let that fool you, I am perfectly capable of stopping your men from attacking us." I sighed and shook my head, turning to the soldiers standing close behind me, "Five of you will return to the Capitol and inform President Monroe that we have arrived safely."_

_I turned back to President Foster and raised a brow at her, "I believe it would be in both of our interests to wait until we've spoken at length and I've had time to write a report, wouldn't you agree?"_

_She studied me for another moment and then nodded, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Very well, Ms. Flynn."_

_She turned to one of the men beside her and waved a hand, "Please show Ms. Flynn to her quarters and the men to theirs." Without another word to me she turned and strode back up the stairs, leaving us all sweltering in the sun._

After that moment I had been forced to give up half of my guard and after meeting with Kelly for a tense dinner where we exchanged pleasantries and little else, I had written a letter to Bass and Monroe, informing them of everything that had happened.

Kelly had given me a letter for Bass as well, her lips pressed into a firm line when she had handed it over. Three days later we had both gotten responses back, and neither of us were happy with the results.

**April 23rd, 2016**

_I sat at the desk in my quarters, reading the letter that had just arrived from Bass, absently rubbing at my temples. This heat and humidity was giving me a headache._

**_Becca,_ **

**_I cannot believe you agreed to send back half your guard. How foolish can you be? Their forces can easily overwhelm or kill you. I thought you were smarter than this. Why would you put yourself in danger like this? I am going to bring a whole regiment of men down there if that woman so much as scratches you._ **

**_I should never have let you go._ **

**_We need to make sure we get our lands back from Foster, her forces are still encroaching on our territory and they show no sign of stopping. I've shown restraint in not attacking them, but if she won't stop, I'll have to send forces to repel them. I can't stop the locals from defending their territory, or from being absorbed into the Georgia Federation._ **

**_I need you to do this Becca, the rebels are fighting us hard in Jersey and we don't have many resources left. If you fail…we won't be able to win against Georgia._ **

**_Please be careful Becca._ **

**_President Monroe_ **

* * *

_That evening at dinner President Foster slid Bass's letter across the table to me, her brows knitted._

_"_ _Your President is quite upset with me for forcing half your guard back. His tone was very unpleasant."_

_I sighed and leaned forward, unfolding the letter. "I apologize for his tone. He's worried that something could happen to me."I paused as I flipped the letter open, the connotation to my words sinking in._

_I glanced up to see if she had any reaction, but she only raised a brow. Turning my gaze back to the letter I frowned as I read._

**_President Foster,_ **

**_It is my hope that with our Ambassador's great skills and knowledge we will be able to resolve our dispute without continued violence. Please do not take my amenability to participate in negotiations as a sign that we within the Republic will terminate our own great progress. We wish to have safety and prosperity for our people, as we are sure your Republic does. Threats to our Ambassador will not be tolerated lightly, and removal of her personal guard was unnecessary._ **

**_We will speak again soon, I am sure._ **

**_President Sebastian Monroe_ **

_I closed my eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths in and out. Goddamn Bass and his insufferable attitude, always trying to fucking save me._

_I opened my eyes and smiled thinly at President Foster, "My apologies President Foster, but President Monroe is a staunch defender of his followers. He believes in making sure people know that we aren't weak."_

_Foster stared at me for a moment, her expression serious. After a long uncomfortable silence she nodded, her eyes flinty._

_"_ _Very well." She lifted a glass of wine to her lips and sipped for a moment before setting it aside, her body stiff with anger. "You call yourself a follower of President Monroe, and you said he would be upset if anything had happened to you. What are you really to him?" she demanded._

_I paused with a bite of food halfway to my mouth, barely able to breathe. I had to be very careful here. Most people didn't respect me because I was so young, or because I was a woman, or both. If they knew Bass and I had any sort of relationship other than working together to build the Republic…_

_I set my fork down and sipped on my own wine for a moment before answering. Foster watched me the whole time, her eyes gleaming with interest. I set my wine aside and gave her a chilly smile._

_"_ _What is my relationship with President Monroe? Well, we met four years ago, along with General Matheson, and we saved each other. We kept each other alive, became friends, and over time brought people together into what is now the Republic."_

_I shrugged and gave her a wry smile, "I'm sure you and others would like to hear a tawdry tale of how I fucked both men into giving me my position, but the truth is that I went to school for International Relations and Business, so I was preparing for a job in politics before our world went to shit."_

_I laughed, "If anything, I think I do a better job than any of our former leaders ever did because I actually go out and meet with the people and try to make sure that President Monroe and General Matheson understand what it is that they need."_

_I shrugged a shoulder and furrowed my brows at her, "I resent this accusation, especially coming from another woman. Did you fuck someone to get your position? Did anyone ever ask you that? I wouldn't have asked you that."_

_I pushed my chair back and stood, giving her an appraising look, "I think I've lost my appetite tonight Madame President. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."_

Our meetings had progressed from there, or rather, hadn't progressed. We had argued over what land would remain in the Georgia Federation and what land would be kept by the Monroe Republic, which goods would be traded, and how we would stop our people from fighting.

In the two months since I had come here there had been guerilla warfare conducted on both sides—neither taking responsibility for the attacks. I knew Bass and Miles were behind the attacks, and nothing I said in my letters had stopped them.

**May 1st, 2016**

**_Dear Sebastian,_ **

**_These relentless attacks on the borders are not helping. You say you cannot keep citizens from defending their homes, yet they aren't acting like citizens, they fight like our militia. You need to stop the fighting! I can't negotiate a peace deal if constant guerilla attacks are getting in the way._ **

**_Stop making excuses and making this harder on me. Be a President and issue an Executive Order. Send militia to stop the fighting. DO SOMETHING._ **

**_Becca_ **

**_Dear Miles,_ **

**_I need you to speak with Sebastian. Your tactics at the borders are only making things harder for me and I will not be able to negotiate a treaty for us if they do not stop! Why is he so goddamn pigheaded? Why are you?! Fuck!_ **

**_If you both do not listen to me we will be fighting a war with Georgia that we cannot win. Our Republic will fail before it ever gets fully formed. Please Miles, I need your help._ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_Becca_ **

**May 7th, 2016**

**_Rebecca,_ **

**_I resent your letter. I am the President of the Republic and I will govern it as I see fit. If I say that our citizens are attacking the borders in guerilla attacks, that is what is happening. I am trying to resolve the situation, now you need to do your best to resolve the situation there. If you can't, I'll find someone else to do it._ **

**_President Monroe_ **

**May 12th, 2016**

**_President Monroe,_ **

**_If you could find someone to replace me, you would have. None of the men are capable of doing my job, and you are too…goddamn it Bass you're too fucking stubborn to do this. Trust me! I need you to trust me. I told you I would always have your back and I do. So have mine and pull whoever you have at the border back. Stop the attacks and I can get this treaty done._ **

**_Please._ **

**_Becca_ **

I wished I was in a room with them so I could give them a piece of my mind like I wanted to. Being this far away from both of them was killing me.

As I washed the sweat off my body the sound of pounding hoof beats thundering down the street below broke through my concentration. I turned and peered out the window, frowning when I only saw dust rising up from the road.

Whoever it was that had thundered by was already gone.

I dressed quickly and brushed out my hair, braiding it and wrapping a tie around the end before strapping my gun on and tossing my door open. The guard outside my door followed closely behind as I strode through the building, intent on finding out who exactly it was that had stirred things up.

Bursting through the doors of the large building that housed both myself and President Foster I came to a halt when I saw the congregation of Monroe militia milling around. Bass's threat to come and deal with the situation rang through my head and I found myself searching for his familiar form in the small crowd.

"Ambassador!"

My head turned at the call of my title and my heart sank.

It was Tom Neville, not Bass that had come for me.

* * *

Tom, Foster and I were sitting at a large table, silence ruling the room. Foster and Tom were having the same staring contest she and I had engaged in when we had met, and it was looking like Tom was going to win.

Foster let out a tiny huff and her shoulders slouched. "Why are you here Mr. Neville?" she demanded.

Tom raised a brow, "It's Captain Neville actually…and I'm here because President Monroe is prepared to launch an invasion if his Ambassador is not allowed to return to her Republic. You have had months to resolve your dispute and instead have made the problem worse. The Ambassador has given you reasonable ways to resolve the dispute between our Republics, and you've balked. Now, I'm here to provide incentive."

Tom smirked and tented his fingers, "Just over the border is a reserve of our men. Enough to make your life very difficult. I think you'll also find that the Plains people have been raiding you more frequently. Now, are you prepared to speak with our Ambassador about terms?"

Fury raced through my veins. I hated that Bass had sent this man to be my back up. I should have been able to complete this on my own. If President Foster wasn't so fucking impossible, constantly changing the terms of what she wanted, I would have been able to resolve this weeks ago.

Foster glared at Tom for nearly a full minute before she unclenched her jaw and spoke. "I do not take the threat of war lightly, _Captain._ I will however, work with Ambassador Flynn to resolve the dispute here."

Tom smiled, and there was nothing pleasant about it. "Very good." He turned and nodded to me, "All yours Madam Ambassador."

I smiled tersely at him and turned to President Foster, "Alright, three weeks ago we were nearly at an agreement. I'd like to return to that."

Foster glared at me but nodded.

An hour later we had finally negotiated a treaty that would allow for both Republics to gain land, begin trade, and declared a peace between us. All in all, it was as good as we could hope for.

It also meant that I could go home.

* * *

**_Dear Becca,_ **

**_I miss you. I wish I hadn't asked you not to go. I need you back here badly. There are so many decisions to make and I feel unqualified to make any of them. Please come back soon._ **

**_Bass_ **

I tossed the letter into the flames, watching it burn. Becca would be back soon. I needed to pull my shit together. I had been distracted for months; Miles had been teasing me about it relentlessly.

It infuriated me that I couldn't stop feeling this way about Becca. She was nearly a decade younger than me, she had taken weeks longer than she was supposed to in resolving the negotiations between Georgia and the Monroe Republic, and she was infuriatingly intelligent.

She didn't want protection, she hated that I had asked her to stay, and I had no idea how to talk to her.

"Fuck" I whispered, rubbing a hand over my face.

None of that mattered. I felt the way I felt about Becca, and I needed to make it right with her.

Our letters back and forth had been combative, angry and cold. I feared I had pushed Becca even further away with every word I wrote, but I couldn't stop. Every letter I wrote and each one I read from her made it all worse.

I had tried taking my pleasure with other women, but it had been empty, hollow pleasure. I wanted Becca and there was nothing that was going to change that.

A knock at my office door made me turn from the fire and I smiled halfheartedly at Miles. We were pushing through our battles, taking our Republic farther, gaining more ground slowly. We needed Becca back though; more and more cities were demanding negotiations and our minor Ambassadors were overtaxed and under qualified.

"I just got a letter from Becca, she's solidified the deal. They're on their way back." Miles handed me the letter and I frowned, wondering why I hadn't gotten one. As I read, the reason why became obvious.

**_Miles,_ **

**_Our treaty is finalized. It's not perfect, but it's what we could get. We've set terms to sit down again in a year and renegotiate as our borders settle and our lands grow more fertile. President Foster is a cold and calculating woman who shouldn't be underestimated. She'll make a good ally though._ **

**_I wish Bass hadn't sent Neville…you know I don't like him. He undermined my authority…but I suppose by the time he got there the whole thing had turned into a shit show. Why couldn't you two have just listened and done as I asked?_ **

**_If you had called off the guerilla attacks weeks ago this could have been resolved sooner and with fewer concessions. You both hamstrung me. You are supposed to support me and listen to my policy advice and all you did was undermine me._ **

**_We're having a serious discussion when I get back about what happens when I tell you I need something and you'll both hear what I have to say and make some changes or I won't be sticking around._ **

**_I love you, but I could murder you both right now._ **

**_Becca_ **

* * *

As I rode away from the city of Atlanta I looked back, suddenly feeling anxious. All I had wanted for two months was to get out of the city and go home….to Bass. I had tried to forget about him, tried to bury my feelings, but if anything they had only gotten worse with each letter.

Sighing unhappily I turned back towards home and nudged my horse.

I was scared of the idea of leaving the only family I had known in a long time, but if Bass and Miles couldn't respect the job they had asked me to do…I couldn't stay.

* * *

_**AN: Hello my lovely readers! Thank you to those who have followed/favorited! It means so much and I do hope some of you will review soon, I would love to hear what you think! It took me some time and some editing to get this chapter the way I wanted it. I wanted Becca and Bass to be able to "speak", but without that face to face and expressions, it's a hard thing to conquer and convey emotion. Kind of like texting! So I hope I portrayed emotions here accurately. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!** _


	11. Coming Home

**June 18th 2016**

The horses nickered softly as they drank from the stream, eager to be cool, the relentless heat baking all of us to either a sun burnt red or a pleasant tan. My skin had long ago gone from painfully burnt to tan like a farmer, but at this point there was nothing I could do about it, sunscreen was long gone.

I pulled my baseball cap's brim down further and tugged on my horse's reins, guiding her away from the stream and back to the road. Tom stood chatting with a group of the soldiers, laughing and joking; their laughter broke off as I approached, and I tried not to roll my eyes.

If I had my way, I would have left the group behind and ridden hard for Philly, but I had been informed that bandits and rebels were becoming prone throughout the Republic and that it wouldn't be safe.

I scoffed internally and patted my horse's neck, watching Tom out of the corner of my eye. _Not safe my foot. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself and they know it. They just want to keep an eye on me._

I mounted the mare and settled my sunglasses onto my nose, nodding to Tom before I nudged her forward, ignoring his shout for me to wait. Waiting was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed to get back and see Miles and Bass.

Eventually the men caught up to me with much scolding and grumbling as we continued down the road. I could hear whispers from some of the men calling me bitch, and saw the dirty looks they gave me, but I felt none of it; I only wished I was alone, in peace and quiet.

Every muscle in my body ached for home, every cell wanted to be back with my family, wanted to feel joy again, to….

I sighed deeply…I wanted to see Bass again.

I wanted to scream and shout at him, slap him, kiss him, fuck him, and tell him to go to hell.

I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

* * *

**June 20th, 2016**

Every inch of me was wet. My clothes stuck to my skin and I shivered as more rain slapped against my face and skin, the cool wind chilling me even further. It had been raining since last night, a steady stream of cold wind and rain that had drenched us as we moved north.

My leg ached fiercely from riding for so long in the cold and I was desperate to get out of the saddle. I could see the Capitol building ahead and a thrill of excitement flowed through me, despite the ugly weather.

Nudging my mare forward, we cantered ahead of the group towards Independence Hall…towards home.

As we rounded the street corner I slowed the horse, excitement and nervous energy making my stomach tumble, hope surging through me when I saw a tall figure standing on the stairs. As we trotted closer my hope died…it wasn't Bass, but Miles.

I kept my chin down as I dismounted; biting the inside of my lip to fight back the tears and the sense of betrayal that came from not see Bass on those steps. A stable hand snatched the reins away and I grabbed my packs, hauling them onto my shoulder as I climbed the stairs, limping.

Miles frowned softly at me and stepped down the stairs, reaching out to take my arm firmly, his brows furrowing as he pulled me up the stairs. "You should have made camp and waited out the rain" he grumbled, towing me into the building.

I shivered in his grip, my teeth chattering softly, "G-glad t-to see you t-too" I muttered.

Miles glanced down at me, a faint smirk appearing on his lips before fading. "Probably caught your death" he muttered.

I nodded, a sharp chill running down my spine as we walked to my rooms, militia gawking as we hurried past. Miles shoved my door open and grabbed my bags off my shoulder, tossing them into the corner before moving to shut the open windows with a low growl and a shake of his head.

He turned back to me with a gentle frown, "You need to get out of your wet clothes, you can't get sick." He gazed at me for a moment with such concern that I smiled softly at him, reassuringly I hoped, and after a moment he sighed and shook his head.

Walking over he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, drawing me in for a tight hug. My arms felt shivery and weak as they wrapped around his waist and I couldn't stop the few tears that leaked out as he hugged me, hushing me softly.

After a few moments I pulled away, snuffling softly and smiling faintly up at him. "I'm sorry. It's been a long road back and I was hoping…" I trailed off, frowning.

Miles sighed, nodding. "You were hoping Bass would be there" he murmured, looking tired and mildly frustrated. He had spoken with Bass about meeting Becca when she arrived home, but he had refused to say if he would be there.

He had instead chosen to leave two days earlier, riding out with a small party of men, insisting that hunting and bringing food back for the town would be the best way to spend his time until Becca returned.

I nodded, shivering. My clothes stuck to me like a cold second skin and I was suddenly tired, tired enough to want to lie down and sleep. Closing my eyes I shook my head, "Forget what I was hoping for Miles. I just want to get warm now."

I turned away and unzipped my jacket, stripping it away and hanging it over the railing of the bed. I shivered harder at the touch of the cool air and went to my dresser, rooting through until I found a sweater and leggings, pulling out clean underwear and tossed the bundle of dry garments onto my bed.

Miles sighed deeply and shook his head, "Get some rest kid" he murmured before pulling the door shut behind him, leaving me in peaceful silence. I quickly stripped off my wet clothes and hurried into the dry ones, tugging my wet hair out of its braid and fluffing it around my shoulders.

Dumping my bags out onto the floor I piled the dirty clothing in the hamper before setting my journals and files aside to review after I had warmed and cleared my head. The last item in the bag was a book that President Foster had given me as we left, a gift she had called it.

It was a copy of the collected works of the founding fathers of America, and it was incredibly interesting, if a bit dry at points. I carried the book to my bed and curled beneath the covers, opening the book to my last stopping point and began reading, trying to take my mind off of Bass and his conspicuous absence.

As my hair dried and I grew warmer beneath the covers my eyes grew heavy, the book slipping from my fingers and onto the bed. I rolled onto my side and tugged the blanket closer to my chin, sighing in contentment, my eyes drifting shut.

It was good to be home…I suppose.

* * *

As we rode back into the city the people crowded into the streets, eager for the fresh meat we had brought back. The livestock had been producing milk and eggs, and even pork and some veal, but with more people flowing into the city and the surrounding area, more meat would be needed.

The chickens bred easily, the cows less so. Rabbits were becoming a meat that most consumed without a second thought, and nearly every house had a garden growing, while miles of crops surrounded the city.

It was not an easy thing, expanding the Republic, and fighting rebels on multiple fronts was taking up a vast majority of our resources—food and men—but we were making progress every day.

As I walked down the hall to my office Miles stepped out of his, blocking my way, glaring at me, arms crossed over his chest. I lifted a brow, "What's got your panties in a twist?" I asked with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, "As if you don't know" he muttered, glowering at me with such a fierce expression that I almost stepped back. Instead I stepped forward and brushed past him, heading for my office.

"She's back then?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. My voice sounded too high, desperate, even to my ears, and I hated it. I moved around my desk, shuffling papers, trying to look busy, avoiding Miles's gaze.

"She got back this morning. She was soaking wet from riding through the storm because she refused to stop and wait it out. She was hoping you would be here to see her. She was…upset that you weren't."

I looked up at that, frowning softly. "You told her where I was?" I asked, wondering where she was. If she knew I was here, I would have expected her to come find me, to fight with me, to do _something._

"I did. She didn't seem interested in seeing you, just in resting. She's sleeping in her room."

"She hasn't woken up yet?" I asked, stacking papers and shuffling them around idly. Miles shook his head, giving me a knowing look, one that said he knew what I was thinking. I ignored him and stepped around the desk, unbuttoning my jacket.

"Great, I'll see you later."

I walked out quickly, leaving a sputtering Miles behind me. My feet carried me down the halls to Becca's room, trying to keep my pace slow, disguising my eagerness. Multiple members of the militia stopped me on the way there, congratulating me on our victories in Jersey and North Carolina, slowing my progress.

By the time I made it to Becca's door my hands were jittery with nerves—something I hadn't expected. I eased the door open and shut it carefully behind me, wincing as the floor creaked beneath my boots.

Becca shifted beneath the covers, making soft sleepy noises. I watched her, feeling trapped, unable to move. Her long dark lashes lay heavily on her softly flushed cheeks, her lips parted as she breathed, her finger curling into the blankets.

The urge to lie down and gather her into my arms was so strong it was practically a physical feeling. She looked tired…and I couldn't help but think that it was my fault…if I wasn't so hard headed and unwilling to trust her she would have been home weeks ago.

Sighing, I stepped softly across the room and sank down in the chair beside Becca's bed, running a hand over my face. I had all I wanted within my reach; the Republic, my militia, my best friend…Becca.

Yet somehow it felt like I could lose it all in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Warmth…a cocoon of warmth. It enveloped me perfectly and though I would have liked to drift back into sleep, my stomach rumbled, urging me to rise and eat. I sighed softly and rolled over, stretching and opening my eyes.

I froze, my eyes connecting with Bass's. His deep blue eyes wrinkled around the edges, the only hint of warmth on his otherwise stoic face. We watched each other, the silence growing in the room until it became so heavy I felt like it was choking me.

I sat up slowly, pushing my hair back, one shoulder of my sweater falling down to expose my bare collarbone. Bass's eyes followed its movement, filling with heat, his lips parting. His hands clenched the arms of the chair and he leaned forward, capturing my gaze with his own.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice low and rough, sending a soft thrill through me. It had been months since I heard it, and I hadn't realized how much I missed it.

I nodded, "Better now that I'm home." I frowned softly, "Why were you watching me sleep?" I demanded.

Bass shrugged and leaned back, looking out the window. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay" he murmured.

"Hmm, right" I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes, the emotions of the past weeks bubbling up again.

Bass's eyes narrowed, his head tilting, "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"It means that if you wanted to make sure I was okay, you should have listened to me and stopped the guerilla attacks, trusted me." I shook my head in disgust and threw back the covers, striding across the room to sit on the windowsill.

"You should have resolved the treaty sooner, regardless of the violence" Bass accused. I could hear him rise from the chair as I stared out the window, trying to control my anger.

"I can't do my job if you do nothing but undermine me Bass. I thought you trusted me. I thought you knew that I have your back, no matter what." I could feel him behind me, his body radiating heat against mine.

His hand spread on my back and my eyes closed, fighting the urge to lean back into it. "I do trust you Becca…but there are certain things I cannot control."

I sighed and dropped my head forward against the cold glass, "You could have controlled this Bass. You humiliated me and made my job nearly impossible to do."

I felt him sigh behind me and his hand slid up to my bare shoulder, cool against my warm skin. "I'm sorry Becca" he whispered, his breath skating across the skin of my neck. His fingers curled around my neck, brushing softly over my skin and I shuddered faintly, trying to repress the feeling of pleasure that shot through me.

I turned slightly, looking up at him, my heart aching. "You hurt me Bass. I thought I could trust you, and you made a fool out of me" I whispered, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I hated that he was making me tell him this; that any of this had happened, that we had been brought to this point.

Bass lifted his hand to caress my cheek and I couldn't hold back from leaning into his hand this time, despite my feelings. "I'm so sorry Becca; I never wanted to hurt you. I don't deserve you and if you don't forgive me, I will understand…but I won't ever forgive myself."

His voice was rough with emotion and I could see unshed tears in his eyes as his fingers cupped my face, his thumb rubbing over my cheek. I reached up hesitantly and laced my fingers through his, bringing his knuckles to my lips, brushing a soft kiss across them, my eyes on his.

"I forgive you, but I need time before I trust you again. I need you to prove I should be able to trust you." I searched his face as I clutched his hand, hoping he would hear me, hoping he would prove himself. He had disappointed Miles and me before, but the issue of breaking my trust had only gotten worse since he had avoided me while I healed from my gunshot.

Bass squeezed my hand and his lips curled into a soft smile, "I understand. I'm going to do everything I can to earn your trust again." He tugged on my hand, pulling me up from the windowsill, his smile widening into a grin, "Come here" he murmured.

I smiled softly as he tugged me against his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. I sank into his embrace, burying my nose into his shirt, inhaling his familiar scent like it was some kind of healing therapy for everything that hurt within me.

His fingers wound through my hair, holding me close. A soft noise rumbled through his chest and a moment later he pulled away, gazing down at me warmly. "You need to eat" he murmured, squeezing my waist, "You look like you lost weight."

I snorted softly, shaking my head. "You try living in sweltering heat for nearly three months with your only real options for fun being horseback riding, yoga, and boxing."

Bass's brows shot up, "Boxing?" his hands trailed over my arms, squeezing my arms, feeling the muscles there, "I'd like to spar with you sometime" he murmured, his eyes darkening with pleasure.

I laughed softly and pulled away, dancing on my feet, punching his chest and jaw in feather light jabs. Bass laughed and grabbed my fist, pulling me close, wrapping his arm around me, pinning me to him as he kissed me.

I melted against him, kissing him back with just as much hunger, running my hands over his chest, feeling his muscles ripple under my hands, his hips pushing against mine. His hips pushed me back against the wall, his hands skimming up beneath my shirt as his mouth ran over my neck, his teeth grazing lightly on my skin. I gasped as his hand cupped my breast, his thumb running over and over my nipple until it was hard, sending thrills of pleasure through me.

My back arched, pushing my body further into his hands, desperate for more. Bass's mouth trailed down to my collarbone, sucking lightly, teeth scraping across bone, and I bit my lip, moaning softly.

A knock at the door was followed by Miles's loud voice, "Hey guys, dinner is ready if you haven't killed each other."

Bass paused, his lips hesitating above my skin, and I could sense his smile. "We're still alive Miles; we'll be there in a minute. Goodbye." After a moment I heard Miles's footsteps recede and Bass stood straighter, leaning a hand against the wall behind my head, smiling down at me.

I grinned and tugged his shirt out from the waist of his pants, running my hands along his stomach and around to his back, scraping my nails over his skin, watching as his eyes darkened further.

"I guess we should go get dinner" I murmured, tilting my head up to brush a kiss across his jaw. Bass made a low noise and turned his head to meet my lips, kissing me softly before breaking away.

"I guess we should" he murmured, stepping back and taking my hand, a move that surprised me, despite our recent intimacy. He tugged me away from the wall and towards the door, pausing when I pulled away.

I pointed to my boots, "Need shoes" I murmured, lifting a brow and smiling softly. He smiled and waited while I slid socks and my boots on before reaching out to take his hand. We walked down the hall together, hand in hand, and to my amazement, Bass never once let go when we were approached by militia members or other members of the government.

Miles sat at the dining room table picking at the food on his plate when we entered, his brows skyrocketing at the sight of us holding hands. Leaning back in his chair he frowned softly and nodded sharply, "Hey kid, you look better."

I smiled as I sat across from him, Bass moving to the head of the table, "I feel better. A nap was just what I needed." I lifted the lid on my plate and inhaled gratefully, my stomach rumbling at the scent of the food within.

I dug in enthusiastically, taking a deep sip of the wine while Bass and Miles talked. Miles leaned forward and waved his fork at me, "So should we expect you to stick around Becca?" he asked, taking a sip of wine as he watched me.

Sipping my wine for a moment I glanced between Miles and Bass, the feelings of frustration and betrayal from earlier boiling up again. I set the wine glass down, running my fingertips over the surface, staring at the thick red liquid inside.

"Becca?" Bass probed, his voice unsure.

I looked up at both men, frowning faintly. "You both betrayed my trust and my ability to do my job. You asked me to be your Ambassador because you needed someone who could stand up to you and make good decisions for the Republic, yet when it came time for hard political decisions to be made you threw every roadblock in my way that you could and then acted like it was my fault that the negotiations were failing."

Bass opened his mouth to speak and I lifted a finger, "I'm not done. You disrespected me in a way you would never allow yourselves to be disrespected, and it says a lot about both of you that you would do it to me, someone you both supposedly care about."

I sighed and shook my head, "I've received word that some of the rebels in the Maine area want to surrender and negotiate. I'll be leaving within the next three days to go to them, I've already sent riders ahead to let them know I'll be coming and set up a meeting location. In the meantime you both need to settle our Carolina fronts. Jersey is peaceable for now, so send more men to the south and try to get the rebels there to surrender. If you need me, I'll come."

I took a long sip of wine as both men stared at me incredulously, clearly at a loss.

Finally Miles nodded and leaned forward, his face a mask of regret. "I'm sorry Becca. I'm an idiot. You know that." He looked distinctly uncomfortable as he continued, "What can I do to make it up to you?" he asked.

I smiled softly, "Listen when I advise you, and trust me. I don't need you to make it up to me, just trust me."

I glanced over at Bass, lifting a brow and giving him a questioning look, asking him silently if he could do that, wondering if he was remembering our previous conversation. He nodded his eyes sad.

"Good. Then let's eat" I murmured with a soft smile. I turned to Miles, smiling wider, "You still seeing a woman about a thing?" I asked lightly, lifting a brow.

A faint blush spread across Miles's cheeks and he shook his head, "She's uh…not around right now. Been busy."

I smiled faintly and rubbed a hand over my mouth, "Well I hope she comes back." I leaned back in my chair, sipping on my wine as the conversation began to flow, the evening sky darkening. Bass and Miles began to tell stories from their childhood and soon we were all laughing, drinking more wine and relaxing—a feeling filling the room that hadn't been there in ages.

When my yawns began to come thick and fast I stood and went to Miles, brushing a kiss on his cheek, smiling when he blushed. "Night Miles" I murmured as I rounded the table, squeezing Bass's shoulder, lifting a brow, "You coming?" I whispered before walking away.

I could hear their soft laughter behind me and the soft rumble of Miles's voice, but I was already halfway down the hall when Bass responded, his voice faint. I turned down the hall and pushed the door open to my bedroom, shutting it softly behind me.

Leaning against the door my eyes slid closed, contemplating the evening. It seemed like Bass and Miles had taken what I said to heart, but I wanted time with Bass, just us, to see if there really was still something worthwhile between us.

I moved away from the door and pulled off my sweater, tossing it aside before kicking off my boots and shimmying off my pants, kicking them into the corner. Yanking open my dresser drawer I hunted through the fabrics until my fingers found the silky material I was looking for.

Pulling the negligee on over my head, it whispered down to my thighs, the slit gaping up to my hip. I quickly pulled on the matching underwear and fluffed my hair around my shoulders, sinking down on the bed to wait for Bass.

Minutes later the door opened slowly, creaking on its hinges. Bass stepped through the door, shutting it behind him, his eyes widening in pleasure. He leaned against the door, staring at me, his mouth curving into a small smile as he studied me.

I leaned back on my arms and bent my knee, wiggling it side to side slowly, watching as Bass's eyes followed it. "Take your jacket off" I murmured. He glanced up to my face and I lifted a brow, challenging him.

He smirked softly and ran his fingers over the buttons, quickly undoing them before he shrugged out of the long coat, tossing it over the end of the bed. Reaching behind his head he tugged on the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing his well defined abs and chest.

My breathing grew shallow at the sight and I lifted a hand, beckoning him over, my mouth dry and my core growing wetter by the second. Bass smirked and sauntered over, his muscles rippling in the soft glow of the candlelight.

He leaned down slowly, his arms caging me in, biceps swelling as he knelt above me, his head dipping down, nudging his nose against mine as his lips hovered softly above mine. His breath smelled faintly of mint as his lips closed over mine and the taste flooded my mouth.

I sighed and collapsed backwards slowly, running my hands up his sides, tracing my fingers over his muscles, feeling them ripple under my hands. Bass made a low noise of pleasure as I scraped my nails down his back, reaching down to grab his ass tightly.

His hips swiveled down against mine, his growing erection rubbing against the thin fabric of my underwear, creating friction I so desperately wanted. A low moan escaped my throat and I rubbed up against him, eager for more.

Bass's hand skimmed down my waist, his fingers bunched up the material of the negligee, shoving it up to my hip before his fingers moved back down to grab my thigh and pull me tighter against him.

He kissed slowly down my neck, trailing over where his mouth had been just hours before, this time though his mouth was rougher, leaving marks that ached painfully, pleasurably. His mouth closed around one of my breasts, sucking on it until the fabric was wet and my nipple was painfully hard.

I gasped and moaned his name, writhing against him, fingers digging into his skin desperately. "Fuck Bass, yes" I whispered, my hips moving restlessly against his.

Bass grabbed the negligee and tugged on it, pulling it up over my head with a soft rumble of satisfaction. "You're so beautiful" he whispered, leaning down to place kisses to my chest, his mouth moving slowly over my breasts.

My eyes slid shut in satisfaction as his lips and hands trailed over my breasts, my hands clenching on his shoulders; I was unable to stop the soft moans that escaped me at his ministrations.

Bass's mouth trailed lower, skimming over my stomach before his teeth grazed over my hip. His fingers tugged on the hem of the underwear, pulling them down over my knees before tossing them aside.

I didn't realize I had been holding my breath until his mouth descended on my clitoris, his tongue circling on it before swiping down to dart inside me. I gasped and writhed against him, my fingers digging into the bed.

"Oh fuck…yes Bass…don't stop."

I could feel the pressure building slowly within me as Bass continued to lick and stroke me, his strong fingers holding down my thigh as it shivered with pleasure. My back arched and I moaned loudly when a moment later he pulled away, replacing his mouth with his fingers, two delving deeply within me.

My moans grew louder as the fire within me grew, my hips moving mindlessly against his hand, desperate for more. "Bass! Yes! Oh yes!"

I could feel the pressure building within me and gasped as Bass's fingers continued to move against the soft pressure point inside me, driving me harder toward release. He leaned up and took my breast in his mouth, sucking on my nipple, tugging it until it crossed the line of pain and pleasure, his thumb still rubbing relentlessly against my clit.

I gasped for air, crying out his name, begging for release.

Moments later it came, my legs shaking and my toes curling into the bed as I cried out, my eyes sliding shut. "Bass!"

As I lay breathing heavily, limbs still shaking, Bass drew himself up and tugged his pants off, tossing them over the side of the bed before rolling back down to join me. Grabbing my hip he rolled until I was laying on top of him, flush against his chest, my knees pulled around his waist.

His hands trailed up my back to tangle in my hair, his eyes blazing with lust as he leaned up to kiss me, stealing away what little breath I had managed to gather. I could feel his erection pressing up against me, and despite the release I had just had, I wanted him inside me.

I swiveled my hips against his, smiling softly against his lips as he groaned, feeling my wet lips brushing against his erection was the most blissful torture. Dragging my nails through his curly hair, I pulled his head back and fisted my hand in his hair, holding his gaze on mine.

"No more lies Bass, and I'll come back to you, every time." I gasped out the words as I moved my hips against his, watching him. His pupils were so wide with desire that the blue of his eyes was a thin rim, but he nodded, his hands at my waist tight.

"I promise" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

At that I tugged hard on his hair, pulling him up to kiss him, my other hand snaking down to grasp his erection, guiding him to my entrance. Bass gasped against my lips as I sank down onto him, and I could feel my thighs shudder, the pleasure of it running up my spine.

I bit down lightly on Bass's lip, tugging on it as I began to ride him, slowly. Despite the chill in the air outside and how cool the old building was, it felt like the room was a sauna. Sweat beaded on my chest and Bass's; I could taste it on his neck where I licked him, biting him softly.

Bass made soft noises of pleasure as I thrust against him, his hands still firmly grasping my waist. I leaned back slightly, arching my back as I moved and moaned; Bass had thrust up just a bit harder and it was perfect.

"Mmm like that Bass" I moaned, continuing to thrust slowly, feeling the slow burn of pleasure building within me again, larger jolts hitting when Bass thrust particularly hard. We moved against each other, slowly increasing our pace, our breathing growing unsteady and our cries of pleasure growing louder.

Bass grabbed my ass, squeezing it as I moved, his occasional gasps of my name like music to my ears. I was getting closer, but it wasn't enough…grabbing Bass's neck I pulled him up, flush against me, my lips going to his ear.

"Harder Sebastian…I need you harder" I demanded.

Bass groaned softly and nodded, responding immediately. As he thrust into me harder I cried out, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, biting into the crook of his neck, my own hips moving wildly against his.

"Yes Sebastian…oh yea baby…oh fuck yea"

I moaned praises in his ear as he drove me higher, my orgasm building again. I was getting so fucking close…

"Come on Rebecca…come for me" he encouraged, his voice hoarse, his hands almost painfully tight were they grasped my hips.

I leaned back until my back was bowed and cried out softly, the new angle was almost too good. "Fuck!" I gasped and moaned, my hands running restlessly over my body, searching for release.

When my fingers found my clit I was lost, gasping Bass's name on repeat as he thrust into me at a relentless pace. I could hear how desperate I sounded as I cried out, the bed shaking beneath us, Bass's voice as he moaned my name, but all of it faded moments later as my world narrowed into blinding pleasure.

This time when I came it was with Bass inside me, his body still moving against mine, his voice still whispering hoarsely in my ear as I cried out, his hands holding tightly to me, as though he would be lost if he let go.

Bass continued to thrust into me for mere moments before he came, crying out loudly. I could feel him spilling white hot inside me, his body shuddering violently beneath me, his breath rasping in and out.

I collapsed against him, my head resting in the crook of his neck, my breath coming in gasps as my heart raced. We lay together for long minutes, catching our breath and letting our thundering hearts slow.

When I felt like I could stand without falling down I rolled off him and went to the small basin of water on my dresser, wiping down my body. I heard the bed shift behind me and a moment later the soft sound of Bass's footsteps.

His strong calloused hand brushed aside my hair and his mouth at my neck made me smile softly. I turned and offered him the washrag, "Here, clean off" I murmured. He nodded and wiped off his body quickly, watching as I went back to the bed, crawling beneath the covers.

Moments later he was lying on his side, smiling softly at me. His fingers trailed over my bare arm, "What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.

I lifted a hand to his cheek and brushed my thumb across the dark circle under his eye, watching as his eyes fluttered closed. "That you look tired" I murmured.

He snorted softly and opened his eyes, "I've had a busy couple months." His tone was glib, but I could see lines on his face that hadn't been there before. He smiled softly at me and leaned in, kissing me sweetly. "I was worried about my Ambassador, she was being held in hostile territory."

I grinned and ran my hand down his chest, "Hmm, really? Did anyone assuage this worry of yours?" I teased. "I've noticed some attractive new militia members since my return, and they seem quite taken with you, President Monroe."

Bass shook his head, smirking softly. "I told you before I wouldn't cheat, and I didn't. They might be taken, but I'm taken by you." His smile softened into something fonder, more intimate, and I felt part of my anger at him chip away, some of the trust beginning to rebuild.

"I liked you calling me Sebastian" he murmured, running a thumb across my bottom lip.

I smiled softly and nipped at his thumb, "I liked you calling me Rebecca." I smirked faintly, "But let's save it for just between us, hmm?" I suggested, lifting a brow.

He laughed softly and nodded, pulling me into his arms. I sighed happily and lay there for some time, enjoying his embrace.

As I began to tire I nudged him, "Go blow out the candles" I whispered. He nodded and rose, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness. A moment later I felt the bed sink and he rolled back towards me, pulling me against him.

"I thought you wouldn't come back" Bass whispered, his lips pressed to my shoulder.

I sighed softly and squeezed his hand at my waist. "I almost didn't. But I don't run from my problems. I won't run from you Bass, I've told you that."

He nodded and squeezed me, "You're my family now" he whispered.

I swallowed hard, it was as close as he would come to saying _I love you_ , and it meant nearly as much.

"You're mine too Sebastian" I whispered, choking on the silent, unspoken words between us.

Would either of us ever have the courage to say them?


	12. Beda

The next morning the sound of thunder rumbling and the sensation of a strong arm pulling against my waist woke me, a smile creeping across my lips when I realized that Bass had stayed the night.

My toes pointed down towards the foot of the bed as my legs stretched, easing away the aches from travelling, my back having enjoyed the long night of rest on a comfortable mattress. My smile grew as Bass's lips brushed across my bare back, his scruff scraping pleasantly across my skin.

"Mmm…good morning" Bass murmured, his voice so low and sleepy it reverberated against my chest, vibrating pleasantly through me.

"Good morning" I whispered back, rolling over gently to face him, smiling as he brushed back my wayward curls and wrapped an arm around my waist to draw me closer, sighing happily.

"I'm glad you're home" he admitted softly, his fingers stroking my hip gently as he spoke. "I missed you, even if you are a pain in the ass" he murmured, grinning when I slapped his chest gently, making a soft noise of protest that we both knew was half hearted at best.

I was a pain in the ass…but he loved it and we both knew it.

I grinned and leaned up on one arm, glaring down at him in mock anger, "Well I'll have you know this pain in the ass saved your Republic by leaving and being held political hostage—for her birthday no less!—and you haven't even apologized or given her a present!" I declared, smacking him in the shoulder again.

Bass sat up, the sheets pooling around his hips, grinning at me, "Funny you should mention that. Wait here." He commanded me before jumping out of bed and pulling on his pants and undershirt before barreling out the door barefoot.

I stared after him, dazed and confused, but interested to see what he would return with. After a few moments I realized I was sitting up in bed naked, with the door hanging open—a precarious situation at best.

Leaning down I swiped my negligee off the floor and pulled it on hastily before sliding out of bed to wipe off my face and rearrange my hair from the rat's nest it currently resembled. Footsteps outside the door alerted me to Bass's return, allowing me just enough time finish braiding my hair before the door closed and his low voice spoke from close behind me, "Turn around."

I smiled and turned, amused to see him holding both hands out, two packages wrapped in shiny paper and topped with bows held out before me. One was significantly smaller than the other, intriguing me. I reached for the smaller package and Bass looked nervous, "If you, uh don't like it, we'll talk," he murmured hesitantly.

I lifted a brow but nodded, taking it from his hand and eagerly shredded the paper off and lifted the lid from the simple white box. Inside laid a single brass key. I stared down at it, more confused than I wanted to reveal, but I glanced up at Bass and smiled softly, "Thank you?" I murmured hesitantly, not sure what to say.

Bass nodded, swallowing hard. "I-I had it before you left. It's the other key to my suite…or our suite, if you want. I know you don't want people to think you got your position by sleeping with me and I'll respect your decision if you want to stay here, but I want you to move in with me."

I stared wide eyed at Bass as he blurted out his speech, his words running together as he spoke in one long breath. I had never seen him nervous before….it was sort of unnerving. Glancing back down at the key I took a deep breath, the full implications of the gesture really hitting me.

Bass had been thinking about this step for awhile, and despite our fighting before I left, he wanted to move forward. "Why didn't you say something before I left?" I murmured, still staring at the key.

"Because I was mad at you for wanting to leave. I was worried it was too soon after your injury, that you would hurt yourself again, that something could happen to you in Georgia, that it would be my fault for not making you stay…" his voice trailed off and I glanced up to see him shaking his head and rubbing his neck, his eyes downcast.

Sighing, I lifted the key from the box and tossed the box aside; holding the key up between two fingers I showed it to him, "This? This wouldn't have made me stay. Everything you just said? That would have been a hell of a step towards getting me to think about your position."

Bass looked up at me in surprise and I smiled faintly, "I still would have gone. It was the right move and you know it. But I appreciate everything you just said, so much." I leaned into his chest, tilting my chin up to kiss him, smiling as his free hand wrapped around my waist to hold me tightly against him as he kissed me.

When he pulled away I grinned up at him, "So can I have my other present?" I teased. Bass grinned and lifted the box, dropping it into my eager hands. I quickly tore into the package, letting out a gleeful noise when I opened the box.

I looked up at Bass as I danced in place, "You got me a horse!" I crowed, holding up a bridle.

He grinned and nodded, "Would you like to meet her?" he asked, laughing softly when I threw myself into his arms, nodding fiercely.

"Yes! Oh my god Bass, I've always wanted a horse of my own!" I exclaimed as I pulled away to dress, eagerly pulling on my clothes. I ignored Bass's amused chuckle when I nearly fell over pulling my boots on, stumbling to the door and motioning at him to follow at the same time.

He smirked softly and shook his head, a charmed smile gracing his handsome mouth as he followed me quickly out of my bedroom, jogging to keep up as I ran through the halls, the bridle clinking softly in my hand as I made my way eagerly for the stables.

I turned down the street, straw and sawdust beneath my feet, the warm scent of horses flooding my nose and I slowed, not wanting to spook any of the beautiful creatures within the stalls. Bass pulled up beside me and smiled, motioning for me to follow, leading me to the end of the long building.

As we approached the end of the stables he let out a low two toned whistle and a moment later a mare stuck her head out the stall door, ears pricked forward in interest. I let out a soft gasp of pleasure, moving forward eagerly, my hand extending slowly for her to smell.

I leaned forward, inspecting her over the door, and fell in love. "Ooo you're a beautiful darlin aren't you?" I crooned, rubbing along her nose, laughing softly when she bumped her face into my chest, whuffling softly.

She was a gorgeous buckskin Quarter horse with a caramel colored coat and a main and tail that were as black as night. I turned to smile at Bass as I rubbed under her chin, "Does she have a name already?" I asked.

He shook his head, "If she does, there's no paperwork. She's yours to name," he said with a soft smile, leaning against the wall beside us.

I grinned and turned back to my horse, "You hear that darlin? You're all mine, what do you think of that?" I asked softly as I unlocked the stall door and walked inside, running my hands over her slowly, getting to know her and letting her get to know me.

Slowly I worked my way back to her head, rubbing her nose as I smiled at Bass, "Thank you," I murmured softly, feeling my cheeks flushing from the intensity of my feelings. He nodded and leaned on the stall door, winding his hand around my neck to pull me closer and kiss me softly, breaking away with a startled laugh when the horse huffed and tossed her head up between us.

I patted her neck gently and shook my head, "I think I have the perfect name for you," I said with a soft laugh. "Beda," I told Bass, "It's Russian for _trouble_ ," I explained at his confused look.

Laughing, he patted Beda on the neck and nodded, "Perfect for both of you," he teased, grinning at me.

"Ha ha ha, you're a riot," I mocked him gently, exiting the stall to push him gently against the wall, glancing around to make sure no one was around before I tugged his shirt out of his pants and ran my hands up underneath, a low noise of pleasure escaping me at the feel of his firm muscles beneath my hands.

His hands grasped onto my ass, pulling me tighter against him and I leaned up to press kisses against his jaw, "Thank you for my presents," I whispered as I kissed down his throat, my teeth running over his skin.

I could feel his pulse beating faster as my tongue ran over the hollow of his throat and I felt his throat work hard before he responded, "I'm glad you liked them…I was worried."

I nodded, "I loved them…but I have to leave again. The sooner the better; the North needs me." I whispered, pulling back to stare up at him seriously. We couldn't have another fight like last time, if he asked me not to go…I wouldn't be coming back.

Bass nodded and lifted a hand to stroke my cheek, his eyes sorrowful as his lips curved into a soft smile. "I know. I wish sometimes we had never asked you for advice, or that you weren't so brilliant, or better yet that the power had never gone out, but then I would never have met you."

He shook his head and ran his thumb over my bottom lip, sending shivers through me as his gaze grew intense, "There's so much I would never have done if the power had never gone out…Shelley might…" his voice broke and he inhaled sharply, looking away, his jaw tight with emotion.

I felt my eyes grow wide with shock, he still felt guilty and sorrow over Shelley after all this time? I sighed after a moment, realizing it hadn't been that long in the grand scheme of things, but with everything that had been happening it felt like decades had passed since her death.

Shaking my head I lifted a hand, gently taking his chin in my hand and forced his head to lift, turning his face to look at mine. "If the power had never gone out Shelley would have met someone else and gotten pregnant. She would have been stupidly happy. She probably still would have died because we had a shitty EMS response time or her husband would have gotten stuck in traffic, or you know what?" I demanded, "She might never have gotten pregnant, she might have been hit by a bus and killed before any of that happened. We can't know possible futures."

I shook my head, "You can drive yourself crazy thinking _what if_ , or you can be grateful for right now, what you have, and fight like hell to keep it." I smiled at him, stroking his cheek gently, "I know that's what I'm going to do," I murmured.

Bass took a deep breath and smiled slowly, "I don't deserve you," he murmured, leaning down to kiss me, his hand at my waist tightening.

When he pulled away I grinned up at him, running my fingers through his hair, "I'm perfectly aware of that," I teased, laughing when he grabbed me by the waist and began tickling me, his other arm pinning me against him.

"Ahem, Madam Ambassador?"

The polite male voice broke through our laughter and I quickly stepped away from Bass as he released me, running a hand through his hair to straighten it. I nodded at the messenger and stepped forward, "Yes, what is it?" I demanded.

The young man looked nervous and handed over a thick tan envelope with my name written on it before stepping back and waiting for instruction. I nodded my thanks and made a mental note to take him with me to Maine—good messengers were hard to find.

Quickly ripping open the envelope I pulled out four sheets of paper covered in writing, some stained in blood. The curious frown on my face deepened with concern and I quickly began reading.

"What is it?" Bass asked, stepping forward.

I shook my head and stepped around him, pacing as I read, my stomach twisting.

When I had gotten to the last page I sighed and handed over the letters, shaking my head, "We have a _big_ problem. Those rebels in Maine that wanted to surrender? They're being attacked by a larger force that _doesn't_ want to surrender, and they're receiving reinforcements from Canada." I shook my head in incredulity, "Fucking Canada… _really?_ " I snarked, throwing up my hands.

This was beyond bad. We didn't have the forces to fight this many people while we were holding down the front in Jersey and taking the Carolinas AND guarding the border with Georgia. I ran a hand across my face, rapidly trying to think of a solution.

My head snapped up as an idea popped into my head. Spinning on my heel I turned to Bass, "I have an idea," I declared.

He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing, "A _good_ idea?" he demanded.

"Definitely not. But there's a better than average chance that it won't completely fail," I said, trying not to grimace at the look on his face.

Bass groaned and shook his head, "We aren't deciding anything until Miles and the others hear this," he declared, tucking the letters into his pocket and motioning me forward. I nodded and strode quickly back to Independence Hall, heading for Bass's office to pull out the map I had been thinking of.

As Bass gathered the others I began making notes and scribbling down figures until I was sure of my idea…or at least as sure as I could be. I barely heard the door opening or people entering until Bass laid a hand on my shoulder, startling me from my intense concentration.

I looked up and found Tom, Jeremy, Miles, and Bass standing in front of me, all impatient to hear whatever plan it was that I had come up with. I cleared my throat and nodded, "Well gentlemen, I'm going to the Plains to get us some mercs, and I'm sending two junior Ambassadors to the pirates in the Carolinas. We'll have them sail up the coast and bombard the Canadian stronghold just over the border that's supplying the rebels until they can't be of any help any longer. The Plains mercs and I will come and clean up and settle the dispute afterwards."

I looked around the room nervously, waiting to hear what the men had to say, my stomach in knots. After a moment Miles nodded, a wry smile on his face. "I like it. We could even use the pirates in Jersey afterwards," he suggested, earning him annoyed looks from the other men, especially Jeremy, who had been protecting the front for months.

Bass shook his head, "It's a dangerous plan with a very low likelihood of success. We need a different plan."

Tom smirked, "I like it. Ms. Flynn has proven her intelligence and cunning before; I say we trust her on this move, Mr. President."

I gritted my teeth at his cloying tone with Bass and his subtle undermining of my abilities. I wanted to punch the man in the throat and remind him that it had been me who had given he and his family the extra rations that had saved them, but I kept my mouth shut and waited to hear if my admittedly stupid plan would be approved.

Bass sighed and threw a hand up, "Fine, fine, go. But you need to be well armed with the Plains people, and send the right people to the pirates, or they'll be offended and kill them."

I nodded and bounced on my toes, "I'll take care of it now," I murmured before hurrying from the room and down the halls to my offices.

Sitting down at the large teak desk that had been reclaimed from local law offices, I wrote out messages to three of my junior Ambassadors, instructing them on their newest engagement for the Republic.

Sealing the letters with my insignia, I summoned and quickly dispatched messengers to find my Ambassadors in the surrounding towns; if these men and women were going to the Carolinas to negotiate with pirates, they would need to leave immediately.

Perhaps more importantly, if I was going to the Plains with my senior advisor and a contingent of militia, I would need to go pack and organize. I quickly wrote another note, this one to my senior advisor, informing her of the immediacy of the situation and dispatched it.

Leaning back in my chair I looked around the office, debating who else to take with me. The Plains people could be vicious and ruthless, but they weren't stupid, anyone I took had to be prepared for conflict.

All of my people were combat trained and had field experience—not just engaging in fighting to build the Republic, but they had also fought to survive when the power went out. Grabbing a pad of paper and a pen I quickly wrote up a list of advisors, messengers and spies I wanted by my side.

When I had finished the total number was 10 people, perhaps a smaller amount than Bass would prefer, but if I knew the situation that we were going to be walking into the way I thought I did, it was probably 5 too many.

Sighing, I stood and slid the paper into my pocket before walking down the hall and out of the building, heading through the streets, taking allies and switchbacks until I was sure there were no guards or militia following me.

At a small blue townhouse I scaled the fence into the backyard and knocked on the back door, keeping my head down as I waited, feeling like every eye in the city was on me. After what felt like an hour, but what was probably closer to ten seconds, the door cracked open and a tanned face peered at me through the cracks for a moment before a heavy sigh and an eye roll were issued in my direction.

The door swung open to reveal a tired, sour looking woman, her graying hair plaited into a braid that hung to the middle of her back. She waved an irritated hand at me, "Get the hell in here before someone sees you," she muttered, shaking her head in displeasure.

I nodded and slunk into the house, quickly moving away from the windows, giving her a hesitant smile, "Thank you for letting me in Maggie," I murmured, hope springing up within me that she had even opened the door.

Maggie eyed me like I was week old garbage that had been dropped into her pristine kitchen and had been told she had to clean up with her bare hands. "Mmhmm," she humphed, crossing her arms over her chest.

I swallowed hard, some of my hope fading. Maggie had been a CIA agent before the power had gone off, and for some reason, she had chosen to stay in Philly and help us rebuild the city. With the secrets she knew about the old government, she could have had not just my job, but Bass's.

Instead, she chose to live in anonymity, reaching out when I had first come to the city to let me know that she had worked with my father, and she hoped I was nothing like him. Our first meeting had been short—raising a toast to the memory of my long lost bastard of a father, "Fuck you," were the words I believe we used.

Since then she had occasional sent letters or notes with ideas or suggestions for the Republic, and I had received them all eagerly. She was my secret weapon, and I wanted something from her I wasn't sure she was willing to give.

"Maggie, I know you said you wouldn't ever leave the city again, but I need your help. I'm going to the Plains to get some mercs to take north to Maine, and I need spies." I shook my head, frowning, "I need you. I have spies, but they'll catch them. They won't ever see you coming. I need you to get to the Plains before us and get us information on their lifestyle, war methods, their needs, supplies, anything. We don't have nearly enough information."

I fell silent, praying she would say yes, my gut in a knot as I waited. Her steely blue-grey eyes narrowed as she stared at me, her jaw clenching. As the silence grew I fought the urge to fidget, staring back at her, waiting for her decision.

Finally she nodded stiffly, "Fine. When do you leave?" she murmured, tilting her head to stare down her nose at me.

"Two days from now. We would leave tomorrow, but I want to give you a head start."

She nodded, frowning, "I'll need a fast horse. Supplies I can take care of myself. I'll leave tonight."

I blinked in shock at her, too stunned to nod for a moment, but then bobbed my head, "Yea, okay." I stepped forward, extending my hand, "Thank you Maggie. I sincerely appreciate this," I declared, giving her a tentative smile.

To my complete surprise she took my hand, shaking it firmly, her mouth twisting into something that resembled a smile, "I wouldn't do it for anyone else. Especially not that fucker who called himself your dad," she replied with an angry twist to her mouth.

I nodded, trying to push away the old familiar anger at the thought of my father. "Let me know if you need money for the horse," I murmured, turning for the door.

Her wry laugh followed me out the door, "I got my own blood money kid, I don't need yours," she called before slamming the door shut, the sound making my shoulders flinch. I jogged through the streets until I was back at the Hall, my feet thoughtlessly carrying me back to my office as I contemplated her words.

_Blood money…_ was that what it was to earn money in the Republic? I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably and made a mental note to review the tax system on my way to the Plains. What we were building needed to be just, equal and fair…otherwise it wasn't worth it.

Shutting the door behind me I quickly went to my desk and riffled through the books and papers, deciding what should be taken with me and what could be left behind. Shoving notebooks, papers, files and books into a leather satchel that I had found in the city I slung it over my shoulder and locked my office behind me, knowing that if Maggie needed to get word to me she could.

Kicking my boots off I slung the bag onto the bed and went to my closet, grabbing out my heavy duty travel bags with a sigh. It was going to be long weeks of travel to the Plains, and then even longer to Maine, so I was going to need nearly all my clothes, short of winter items.

Rolling each item and shoving it into the packs occupied my hands, leaving my mind free to plan for every problem that could arise from my plans…of which there were many.

When the power went off, the people living in the Plains were left with an abundance of guns, God, and ammo.

What they didn't have a lot of was…people.

I mean, come on, they're called the flyover states for a reason.

Eventually people began banding together into "Nations", largely by belief groups, until the Plains Nations began to evolve. They continue to nibble at our borders, causing problems occasionally, trading goods other times, at times seeking refuge when the weather is so inclement they can't survive, but always being pains in the ass.

Asking a favor of any of the Nations was a dicey decision at best, and the fact that Bass was going for it meant that he knew our situation within the growing Republic was precarious, and growing more so with each passing day.

One good drought, plague or famine and we were all toast.

God I love the fucking apocalypse.

* * *

_**AN: Well hello there my lovelies! Please let me know what you think of this chapter and thank you for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting!** _


	13. Plains Nation

**June 30th, 2016**

Bent at the waist I brushed my hair back from my face, wiping my mouth with the back of my shaky hand, praying that this would be the last time I threw up. Whatever I had eaten for dinner last night was clearly not sitting well because I had thrown up for nearly ten minutes this morning, delaying our departure.

The sound of rustling branches alerted me to someone's approach and I tried to straighten, instantly regretting the decision as pain shot through my abdomen. "Oh motherfucking shit" I whispered, curling over and clutching my stomach as it spasmed in agony.

"Ambassador Flynn? Are you okay?" a concerned female voice called out, the rustling growing louder. A moment later a tall redheaded woman broke through the brush to my left and came to a halt, her frown deepening at the sight before her.

"You're sick. You need to see the doctor," she ordered, reaching out to take my arm in a firm grip, pulling me away from the tree that I had been using as a support. I protested weakly as my body ached and quivered, a cold sweat breaking out on my chest as we walked back towards camp.

"I-I'm fine…it's just a little food poisoning," I murmured, trying to smile at her. _Shit, what's her name again?_ "Natalie, it's Natalie right?" I asked swaying in her grip, my limbs weak and trembling.

She grinned softly and shook her head, "Natasha, ma'am, but you can call me Nat or Tash, either is fine. I don't think its food poisoning, no one else is sick." She waved a hand around camp, indicating the overwhelming amount of healthy persons who, by now, were all staring at us.

Awesome.

I blearily followed her to the doctor's tent, which luckily hadn't been pulled up yet, and moments later found myself lying on a cot, the world spinning around me. Closing my eyes gratefully, I dozed, the voices of the camp a dull buzz in the background.

"Ambassador Flynn?" a gentle male voice inquired, "Can you open your eyes for me?"

I sighed and opened them slowly; turning to find Doctor Reynolds crouched close by, watching me steadily. He smiled softly, "Good, now, I hear you've been ill? Can you describe your symptoms for me?" he probed gently.

I nodded and laid a hand on my abdomen, "I've been having stomach pain for the past four or five days…I guess its cramps? I haven't gotten my period, just some spotting. I've felt sick to my stomach for days too, and then this morning I got really sick, throwing up for like ten minutes."

I shook my head, closing my eyes as a wave of dizziness passed over me, "I'm dizzy, and I got light headed when I stood up this morning. I don't know what's going on."

Reynolds hummed softly and a moment later I felt his hand on mine, "I'd like to do an examination if that's alright?" he asked softly.

I nodded and a moment later felt him lift my shirt, his hands pressing gently on my stomach, sending shockwaves of pain through my abdomen that had me crying out and trying to scoot away.

"Shit! Don't do that!" I gasped, glaring weakly at him.

"I'm sorry Ambassador; I didn't know you were in that much pain. Is it located on one side?" he asked, his hands still hovering over my abdomen.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "It's been pretty bad on the left side," I muttered, "But try not to poke it too hard, okay?" I demanded, bracing myself as he nodded and reached out to probe the left side.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as he pulled his hand away, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "Have you been sexually active recently?" he asked, regarding me thoughtfully.

I nodded, frowning as I wiped at my face, "I'm in a relationship. Could this be an STD or a yeast infection?" I replied.

He shook his head, "I doubt it's a yeast infection, it's possible it's an STD. I've got a test we can run to find out one other possibility." He held up a finger and turned away towards a set of plastic boxes, pulling one open to riffle through until he found what he was looking for.

When he turned back around holding out the pregnancy test I laughed so hard it almost made me cry. "You've got to be kidding!" I exclaimed, holding my arm out to show him the birth control implant, "I've literally got birth control inside me!" I yelped.

Reynolds smiled sadly, "It's not 100% effective and you know it, you're a smart young woman." He held the box out and shook his head, "If you need help, I can get Natasha back in here," he offered.

I shook my head quickly, the last thing I needed was more witnesses to my embarrassment. He nodded and exited the tent, leaving me to take a very nerve wracking test.

Four minutes later there was a polite cough at the tent flap and a moment later he stuck his head in before entering fully. I pointed to the nearby table where the stick lay; I had been unable to look for myself.

The prospect of being pregnant was absolutely terrifying. I knew that Bass wanted kids, but I wasn't ready to have them, and there was no way we were ready as a couple to have them…hell we were barely a couple.

Reynolds turned and pulled a stool over in front of me, the pregnancy test in his hand. He held it out for me to see, "Positive. You're pregnant," he confirmed softly, his words tearing the world out from under my feet.

I stared at the test until his hand landed softly on my knee. I looked up and found his eyes on my face, so full of sorrow that I frowned, "What's wrong?" I murmured.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I don't think your pregnancy is viable. I felt a mass on the left side where your pain is located and coupled with your symptoms; I'm led to believe that you're experiencing an ectopic pregnancy."

The words swirled around in my head… _not viable…ectopic…mass…._ "Uhm, what does that mean?" I whispered, fear beginning to leech into my veins. My fingers knotted together in my lap and for the first time in a long time I wished that my mother was with me.

Reynolds gave me a concerned smile, his hand resting over mine, "I'd need to do a pelvic exam to be sure, is that okay?" he asked softly. I nodded quickly and he patted my hand, "Okay. If I confirm an ectopic pregnancy, the treatment is fairly simple; we give you shots of methotrexate, which is a cancer treatment drug, and it should take care of it."

I swallowed hard, "Should?" That didn't sound very certain.

Reynolds nodded, his brow furrowing, "Before the power went out we would measure the pregnancy hormone in your blood and do sonograms to see how far along you are to see what treatment is best, but now, this is the best option. You're lucky I have some with me to trade, or you would have to wait until we could send a runner to get some from a city. The only other option is to open you up and remove it, and in this day and age…" he shook his head, clearly not liking that option.

Frankly, neither did I. I really didn't like any of this.

He patted my hand again and stood, "Go ahead and undress from the waist down, and I'll get Natasha." He disappeared before I could object and a few minutes later when I had undressed and draped the blanket over my lap, returned with the tall redheaded militia woman.

Reynolds directed her to take a seat beside my head and a few minutes later we were underway. To my surprise, Natasha reached out and took my hand, her fingers strong and cool around mine. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead and I bit back whimpers of pain during the examination—normally uncomfortable, now nearly unbearable.

When Reynolds leaned back and nodded, lowering the blanket over me, I heaved a deep breath of relief that it was over. Glancing up at Natasha I smiled ruefully as I released her hand, "Sorry I crushed your fingers" I murmured.

She shook her head, smiling softly, "Been there ma'am, I don't mind." With a short nod she exited the tent, leaving Reynolds to give me the diagnosis. As I redressed he went to his boxes, riffling through them until he found a small black box.

"It's ectopic then?" I asked tiredly, running a hand through my hair.

He nodded as he turned, opening the box to reveal a trio of needles. "This is all the methotrexate I have, but it should be enough. I'll give you the first shot now, okay?" he said softly, his smile encouraging.

I nodded and laid back, pushing my pants down and lifting up my shirt for him, closing my eyes as he wiped the left side of my abdomen with antiseptic before I felt the sting of the needle.

"Okay, all done."

I opened my eyes and peeked down, watching as he applied a band-aid. "Great," I murmured dryly.

Reynolds smiled faintly at me, stepping away to toss the used needle away, "You might experience nausea, vomiting, decreased appetite, and lethargy. Rarer symptoms are sores in the mouth and hair loss, but at this low dosage you shouldn't have those."

I nodded and sat up slowly, my head spinning for a moment before settling. "Sounds like a day at the park Doc." I smiled tiredly at him before sighing, "Seriously, thanks though Doc."

He nodded and offered me a hand, pulling me off the cot and guiding me to the tent flap, "It's my job Ambassador."

I shook my head, "It's just Becca, and it might be your job, but you saved my life. Take a compliment."

Reynolds laughed softly and nodded, "Yes ma'am, Becca. Now, doctor's orders, no horseback riding, only travel in the wagons for the next few days. You've got a bug and need rest, hear?" he ordered, raising his voice to carry outside the tent.

I grinned up at him, liking him even more. Any suspicions that the men and women travelling with us might have had about my time in the tent would be banished by those words. "You got it doc!" I replied loudly before stepping outside to make my way to my tent which was in the process of being taken down.

Home sweet home on the go.

Grabbing my pillow, cot mattress and blanket I walked to the nearest wagon where Natasha stood and smiled tiredly at her, "Would you mind directing the breakdown of camp? I'm on bed rest."

She nodded and patted my arm briskly before turning away, squaring her shoulders. "Let's move it you stupid mugs! I want this camp rolling out of here in the next thirty minutes! That means every one of you moves! GO!" she shouted at my messengers, sending them scurrying.

I snorted softly in amusement and crawled into the wagon, laying myself down in a corner and pulled the blankets up to my chin, my body already feeling shittier than before somehow. As the camp devolved into a hum of activity, I drifted to sleep, already dreading the moment I would have to wake up.

* * *

"You want us to supply you with fighters, weapons, and supplies and all we're getting in return is some medicine and seeds?" Curt Thompson spat, his bushy brows furrowing together as his thick fingers clenched around the grip of his gun that seemed to always be in his hand, a constant threat of violence that we all had grown accustomed to over the past few days.

I shook my head, "It's not as simple as that Curt. We're also offering a peace with your people. No more battles, no more death, and open trading with the Monroe Republic. Your people would be free to come and go within our border to trade and make a profit. If they wanted to live within our borders they would also be free to immigrate. In addition we are giving you grain, corn and sorghum seeds, and medicines that we know you need."

I leaned back and crossed a foot over my knee, knowing I had him at the next part, "We're also willing to consider a marriage alliance. Your son for one of our eligible women." I smiled faintly at the surprised look on his face and relaxed into silence, waiting for his response.

Bass, Miles and I had debated the last concession, knowing that there weren't many women that would agree to an arranged marriage, let alone one to a notoriously ruthless Plains Nation man. Ultimately it had been left up to me, if I could find a woman who was willing to accept the deal, and the son sight unseen, I could move forward with the deal.

After long contemplative moments Curt finally nodded, "I accept. Who is this woman?" he demanded, looking around the tent at the men and women that stood around us, watching the negotiations carefully.

His people had their hands on weapons; mine took careful notes to send reports back to the Republic. Only one actual Militia member was in the tent, her red hair a bright blaze a rare sight amongst the blonde and brunettes that surrounded her.

I lifted a hand and waved, not looking away from Curt. Natasha and I had discussed this at length as we travelled to the Plains Nation, having grown closer after my miscarriage.

I had considered keeping her with me as a personal guard, perhaps forming an all female squad, but Natasha had deftly pointed out that having her in a position of intimacy with the Plains Nation would be more useful to me.

When I had asked her if she was worried about them questioning her loyalty or perhaps harming her for some slight she might unknowingly make, she had just smiled wryly and assured me that she was perfectly capable of handling herself.

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I knew that to be a part of the Monroe Militia she had to be former police or military, and with the way she handled weapons and sparred with the male members of the militia, I felt slightly better about asking her to walk into the lion's den.

Curt's eyes widened slightly as Natasha stood next to me, her nearly six foot muscular frame imposing to anyone who wasn't stupid. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down, murmuring softly, "Madam Ambassador?"

I nodded, "Captain Black. I'd like to introduce the leader of the Plains Nation, Curt Thompson." I motioned to Curt and after a brief moment he stood, sucking in his barrel of a stomach and tilting his chin up to stare at her, his height topping hers by only a scant inch.

The two warriors stared at each other for a long moment, the tension palpable in the tent as they assessed the relative merits and skills of the other. Finally Curt nodded and turned behind him, reaching out to wrap a hand around a man who couldn't have been more than a year older than me, dragging him forward to stand before Natasha.

"Meet your wife to be, Dale."

I bit back a laugh at the young man's face as he looked up at Natasha, awed and clearly frightened. She had a good two inches on the man and was staring down at him like he was a bug to be studied and crushed under her boot if he didn't measure up.

Biting the inside of my cheek I swallowed hard and stood, smiling pleasantly at all parties, "Well, is everyone happy with the arrangement?" I asked in a neutral tone.

Natasha nodded after a moment and glanced at me, a faint smile on her stoic face, "Yes ma'am" she murmured before turning back to Dale.

Dale nodded furiously and blushed before coughing and running a hand over his neck and glancing back up at Natasha, "Uh, would you, uh like to see the stallions we have?" he offered nervously.

Natasha smiled softly and nodded, glancing briefly over at me for confirmation that it was safe for her to leave. My eyes flickered to the corner of the tent where Maggie sat with another woman preparing food, and I glanced back to Natasha, nodding faintly.

"I would like that very much" Natasha murmured, smiling at Dale faintly. His father and I watched them leave the tent for a moment, before turning back to our seats and discussion.

"When do you need our fighters to leave?" Curt asked as a woman from the back brought forward drinks.

"As soon as possible. We have a long march ahead to get to Maine, and we'll need to resupply along the way." I nodded my thanks to the woman and watched from the corner of my eye as Maggie stood and walked our way, carrying a tray of food.

Curt nodded, "We can supply horses as well to speed up the process. I expect to be compensated for them appropriately, of course."

"Of course. We'll ensure that half of the weapons taken from the rebels are distributed to your men and women and extra seed is provided as payment." I smiled briefly at Maggie, taking the plate of food she offered and settling it on my lap.

Curt nodded and dug into his food, "You're fairer than the last idiot Monroe sent. Almost felt bad sending his head back," he muttered around his mouthful of food.

I cringed and nodded halfheartedly, remembering the gruesome package. As I lifted my bread to tear it in half I noticed a slip of paper beneath it and quickly slid it into my lap, crumpling it into my pocket.

Tearing the bread into pieces I glanced around the room to see if anyone had noticed the note, but no one seemed to be paying me any undue attention. I breathed a small sigh of relief and continued to eat, listening as Curt recounted gruesome stories of conquest against the Republic, nodding and smiling politely, despite the fact that it was both incredibly rude and disgusting.

As the meal drew to a close Curt leaned back and nodded in satisfaction, "My fighters will be prepared to leave at first light. We will feast tonight and consecrate the marriage, it is your duty to dress the bride and provide a gift for the groom on her behalf." He stood and gave me a terse nod before exiting the tent, his followers trailing after him.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, relief swelling through me. We had successfully struck a peace deal; gotten the fighters we needed, and had made another strong border for the Republic. Hopefully it would all last.

* * *

I watched in amusement as the Plains warriors danced around the enormous bonfire, dancing and singing, Dale and Natasha being led with them, much to their chagrin.

Natasha didn't have a white dress—honestly one probably couldn't be found these days unless it was made, and she wasn't a virgin anyways, so I had dug through my clothes until we had scrounged together a blue maxi dress that looked amazing on her.

Her long red hair was floating down around her in long loose curls and her cheeks were flushed with laughter, making her look years younger. Dale looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and in that moment, she probably was.

I shifted uncomfortably, a wave of nausea rolling through me. My last methotrexate treatment had been three days before, but I was still feeling the side effects, especially since I had been given all three shots.

Rising from my seat beside Curt and his wives I murmured a polite "good evening" and made my way back to my tent, assured in the knowledge that my militia would be watering down their drinks that night in preparation for the early departure the next morning.

As I lay down in my cot I pulled the note from Maggie out of my pocket, re-reading for the third time.

_They'll turn on you, don't trust the son._

It was a simple enough message, but what I was supposed to do with the information, I had no idea. Curt had informed me at the wedding festivities that Dale would be leading the fighters for us because he needed the experience, needed "the bloodying," apparently.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, the poor kid seemed like an innocent idiot who was more eager to look after horses and get to know his new wife than go into battle. But according to Maggie, we shouldn't trust that impression, and if her words were to be trusted, they would turn on us.

Long hours passed as I tried to figure out a solution to our newest problem, sleep remaining elusive until finally exhaustion overrode my restless mind and gave me the peace I needed.

Clarity would come with time and space.


	14. Empire of Blood

**July 17th, 2016**

We had been travelling for over two weeks, pushing the horses as fast as we dared in the intense heat, and we were only halfway to Maine. The reports I had received were infrequent and grim; the Canadians were still providing extra fighters to the rebels who were fighting against those men and women in Augusta who were trying to surrender to the Republic.

Timing, however was with us. We had crossed over into Canada this morning, and the weather had cooled and dampened, rain falling as fog rolled out before us, hiding our presence as we approached the fort that held the Canadian allies we were here to stop.

The small town of Hamilton had been turned into an enormous fort with high walls, preventing anyone from entering unless they had enough heavy artillery to break down the walls. Unfortunately for us, we didn't have more than shotguns, handguns, bows and arrows, and one or two automatic weapons—not nearly enough for an assault against the fort.

What we did have was surprise on our side now that night was falling. The Plains Nation fighters and our militia worked together to create grappling hooks, securing them for our assent over the walls as the sky darkened fully.

From the rear of the lines I watched as the men and women scaled the walls, their boots barely making a noise against the wood. Each was equipped with multiple guns, knives, bows and arrows, and a few very nasty surprises.

Nearly five minutes passed before we heard the sound of shouts from within the fort, quickly escalating to screams. I watched as flashes of gunfire went off, the screams growing more frequent, shouts for help echoing through the night as the battle seemed to grow more pitched.

I leaned forward on Beda, squinting to try and see what was happening. Small figures were rappelling back down the walls, others running out of the now open gates. I watched in earnest, counting softly beneath my breath, nervously waiting for our people to make it out of the fort safely.

"710, 711, 712" I whispered, eyes firmly on the fort. "713, 714, 715, 716…come on you bastards, come on!" I hissed. Less than five seconds later there was an enormous thumping noise, followed by a rush of air as multiple explosions ignited within the fort, blowing holes within the walls and setting the fort afire.

"Yes! Damn right!" I crowed, slapping Beda's neck eagerly. As our men and women returned they eagerly dumped guns and ammunition in the wagons, as much as they had been able to carry before the fort was torched.

Destroying the fort and killing those within it wasn't the first option or even the third that I would have chosen, but when it came down to making a decision, it was the best for taking out a troublesome spot of rebellion along the Republic's border, despite how distasteful I found it.

As the men and women of the militia came back safely with minor wounds, the Plains Nations fighters mingled in with them, I had to admit that the plan my advisors had suggested had worked.

Nudging Beda gently, I turned her back towards my tent and waved to the returning fighters, murmuring words of praise and encouragement, knowing that we may have lost people this night and they would need to know that I cared about them and their sacrifice.

Dismounting, I began to brush down Beda, having ridden her bareback to watch the night's events.

"Ambassador Flynn?" a hesitant voice spoke from behind me, male and soft. I sighed, recognizing Dale's voice.

Pasting on a false smile I peered at him over my shoulder, "What's up Dale?" I replied. He smiled back hesitantly and stepped closer, tucking his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunching forward.

"My dad wanted me to get fighting experience, and, well; I haven't really gotten any so far." He glanced up at me apologetically as he explained, as though I would start yelling at him and I repressed an annoyed sigh.

If I wasn't expecting the kid to turn on us and lead an internal rebellion, I might actually feel bad for him and like him. Shaking my head gently, I smiled at him, "Dale, we've talked about this. You're going to lead the fight in Augusta. You've been extremely helpful in the tactical meetings—it was your idea to bomb the fort!" I encouraged him.

Dale smiled, looking more at ease, his shoulders straightening, his jaw firmer as he nodded, "Yea, okay, thank you. Uh, let me know if I can help any more, okay?" he offered.

I nodded, "I will, thank you Dale. Good night" I murmured firmly, effectively dismissing him. He nodded eagerly and turned, walking away quickly, leaving me in relative peace once more.

Hobbling Beda and tying her close to my tent, I patted her on the neck as she cropped grass contentedly before I entered my tent. "Hello _Ambassador_ ," a dry female voice spoke from the dark corner.

My heart pulsed and squeezed in my chest and I pulled my gun from its holster, searching the darkness for a figure, trying to get my eyes to adjust.

The woman scoffed, "Terrible technique, who the hell taught you?"

Irrationally, I started to grow angry at the unseen person. "Someone who was very good with weapons, much better than I'll ever be," I snapped back. As my retinas adjusted to the gloomy light in the tent I could see a lumpy figure in the corner rise and begin to approach. I focused my gun on center mass and frowned at the woman's unflappability in the face of a weapon in her face.

When a sliver of faint light from outside fell through a crack in the tent and across her face I lowered my gun, exhaling sharply. "Fucking Christ Maggie, you scared me. What the hell was that about?" I demanded.

She eyed me solemnly for a moment before shaking her head, "Better question is, why the hell is that kid still alive?" she demanded.

I holstered my gun and shook my head, "Maggie, I can't just have him killed; we'd lose the Plains Nation fighters. We need them in Augusta. When we get there I'm making sure that it's taken care of. Don't worry."

Maggie frowned deeply at me, "I do worry. You're not a spy, and you're not a killer. You're supposed to be a diplomat. You sure you can make these decisions?" she asked firmly, staring me steadfastly in the eye.

I stared into her eyes and felt my mouth grow dry at her words. I swallowed hard before answering, "I've killed people Maggie, trust me, I've got blood on my hands. I can make sure this gets taken care of," I assured her.

Her lined face became, incredibly, more furrowed as she frowned at me. "We'll see," she murmured, her gaze thoughtful. She stepped carefully around me and headed for the tent flap, pausing for a moment at the entrance.

"How many people have you actually killed kid?" she called back to me softly.

I inhaled sharply and thought rapidly, _who counted? Did Joe? I didn't get him medicine soon enough, that was my fault…What about Hannah and her family? I could have saved them! No…she means people I've actually, purposefully killed._

After a moment I spoke, my voice soft, wary. "35" I murmured, my stomach twisting, acid burning my throat as I remembered each and every face that I had ever taken. I lifted a shaky hand to my mouth, biting back bile and the need to vomit.

Maggie nodded slowly, "Let me know how you feel when you add that fort to your conscience. And all the people that this militia kills to build your Republic. Famine, plague, war…it's a lot of blood to build an empire," she murmured.

I took deep breaths and tried not to let her words overwhelm me, trying to focus on all the good we had planned for the Republic, all the people we had helped.

"You're a regular ray of sunshine Maggie," I muttered, running a hand over my face as I sat down on my cot, too tired to stand any longer.

"I won't sugarcoat shit kid; you got too many people to do that for you. You need to know what it's really like to build and control an empire. It ain't pretty, easy, or fun. If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, get the hell out now."

I nodded and tugged my hair out of its tight bun, sighing in relief as it spilled to my shoulders, "I'll keep that in mind, thanks Maggie."

She nodded and a moment later there was a soft brushing noise as the tent flap opened and whispered closed, her exit as quiet as her entrance.

I sat for a long time that night, listening to the fort burn, my own heart on fire with the words that Maggie had put there. The stench of burning wood and flesh pervaded my dreams, torturing me with images of blackened hands, reaching for me, pulling me into the flames as faceless men and women screamed for revenge.

Come morning I had dark circles beneath my eyes but I was prepared for the road ahead. Tucking my hair into a tight bun I brushed through my tent flaps and nodded to the militia guards standing outside, heading for the smoldering remains of the fort.

By the time I arrived there I had a contingency of thirty men and women with me, gathered from within the camp, some with shovels, others with nothing but their hands. I looked over the group collected before me and nodded grimly, "What we did here was necessary, but it shouldn't be considered the good thing to do, or the right thing to do. Killing shouldn't be easy. It should weigh on us, make us question who we are at night. Today we will bury the dead."

I turned and walked into the remains of the fort, walking carefully on the muddy ground as I approached a fallen corpse, lifting my bandana up over my nose. Crouching down, I stuck my hands under the woman's arms and lifted her, aided by a militia man, and carried her outside the remains of the walls.

Those with shovels began digging graves as we pulled bodies, and soon a rhythm was found. When those who were finding bodies needed a break, they took over digging graves. When nearly four hours had passed, I called a break for everyone, encouraging them to eat and take time away from the fort.

I sat by myself under a large oak tree, enjoying the cool wind that blew across my sweaty face, gnawing on a stale piece of bread and an even harder piece of venison jerky, wondering what Bass and Miles were up to, missing them.

I ran a hand over my stomach absently, feeling slightly hollow and sad. I had written a letter to Bass explaining what had happened, but had been unable to send it with the packet of others; it had seemed far too heartless a way to tell him he had lost yet another child.

I found myself over the past weeks of travel missing that which I had never even had; a pregnancy, the ability to hold a child in my arms, hearing its soft cries and smelling its sweet skin. I wondered if the baby would have looked like Bass with his sharp blue eyes, or have my darker complexion.

I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning back against the tree more firmly, imagining a time when Bass and I might actually have a family. A slight smile crossed my lips at the thought of Bass holding a dark haired little girl on his hip, her bright blue eyes shining up at him in delight.

"Ambassador, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the men and women were wondering when we are going to get back on the road. The Plains Nation fighters are growing restless."

I sighed and opened my eyes to find one of my advisors standing over me nervously, hands behind his back. I nodded and stood, wincing as my entire body ached. "I understand. I want to leave by nightfall, after we've finished burying everyone from the fort. If they would like to move faster, they're welcome to help us."

I smiled at the young man and walked away, knowing he would carry the message to the Plains fighters. They may have been hardened men and women, brutal fighters, but they were often irritable and hard to keep in line while we camped, seemingly always eager for a fight.

Hopefully that bloodlust could be put to good use during our campaign in Augusta; I didn't want to have to use brutality to discipline the Plains Nations fighters for continuing to start fights among our people, or for stealing rations, or any other number of infractions that had cropped up since their arrival.

Lifting the bandana back above my nose I walked back into the charred remains of the fort, searching for more bodies as the sun rose higher in the murky sky, the air humid and rank with the smell of burnt wood and charred flesh.

It was a dark and painful way to reinforce the lesson that Maggie had told me last night; an empire was built on blood.

* * *

**August 5** **th** **, 2016**

Three days. Three bloody days we had been fighting a civil war in Augusta, rebel against rebel, Plains Nation fighters and pirates and Militia slaughtering the holdout rebels who refused to join the Republic…and we barely had anything to show for it.

Canada had reacted to the fort bombing by sending more troops to Augusta so that we were outnumbered 5 to 1.

Five of our horses had lamed up on the trip, our forces were taking heavy losses, and we were running desperately low on ammunition as we waited for reinforcements from Philly.

Overall, it was a shitshow.

On the bright(er) side of things, Dale had gotten some combat action finally, and seemed happy about it. Natasha was watching him closely, ensuring that any sign of treachery was reported, though at this point we were all too buy for him to make any moves unseen.

I stood on a hill, looking down at the low-rise apartments where the anti-Republic forces were gathered, frowning as I studied their tactical advantage. Most of their forces occupied the upper floors, sniping our forces when we tried to approach, even under cover of darkness.

We needed a way to take them out, and soon.

Grass rustled behind me and I whirled, gun in hand, to find Maggie approaching. Lifting a brow, I lowered my gun again and nodded briskly at her, "Coming to see me in daylight?" I asked wryly, "Isn't that against spy craft 101, or something?"

She rolled her eyes and stood next to me, crossing her arms and studying the building below us, seemingly ignoring my question. By this time I was used to it, her pervasive silences. I had slowly learned that it didn't mean she didn't like me, hell, Maggie didn't really _like_ anyone, she just didn't enjoy talking to most people.

I think she was mostly okay talking to me.

The silence ticked away as bugs swirled around us, biting and buzzing, the damp air and infrequent breezes doing little to keep them away. Finally Maggie broke the silence.

"I think I can help," she whispered.

"What do you need from me?" I asked softly.

"That idiot from the Plains, and his people. If we can use them to create a distraction, I can get in undetected. Give me thirty minutes of good firefighting from them and I can buy you a victory."

I nodded slowly, if we used our ammo right, we could make that happen. We would have to be judicious though, and not send any militia weapons with them, just in case. "We can do that." I murmured back.

She nodded sharply and without ever looking at me, turned away and left me to watch the building below.

_Typical Maggie_ I thought with a grim smile.

* * *

Hours later I watched as the Plains men and women hunkered down behind a fallen bus, firing up at the building, others having circled the building successfully to draw fire at the back so that the occupants were busy on multiple fronts.

Maggie had declined to share her plan with me, other than letting me know it required dark, so once dusk had fallen I had ordered the Plains Nation fighters into position and prayed that whatever she was going to do would happen quickly.

The sound of gunfire being exchanged was deafening in the small town, even from my perch on the small hill. I counted each second precisely, each moment exact as I counted down to thirty minutes, praying that Maggie could help.

At twenty-eight minutes the pit in my stomach grew heavier, the Plains Nation fighters were running out of bullets—I could hear them rationing out their shots. "Come on Maggie…Come on," I whispered, pacing along the hill, my eyes glued to the building below.

When I was sure that we were at minute thirty-two and counting I swore, there was no sign of Maggie or anything else. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a red bandana, attaching it to the long stick I had laid on the ground and began waving it, hoping the Plains Nation fighters would see and would remember the signal to retreat.

Moments later I heaved a sigh of relief as their people began to fall back, still exchanging fire with the rebels in the building. Running a hand over my face I groaned in frustration, wondering what the hell had happened to Maggie.

* * *

Morning dawned cold, grey and rainy, after an equally long night of thunderstorms that had blown away half of the tents and spooked a good number of the horses. No one within camp had slept, and we had lost two more injured in the night.

I sipped on a scalding cup of something that was supposed to be coffee and struggled to eat the bread that was staler today than yesterday, desperately wishing for home.

"Ambassador! Come quick! Ambassador!"

Desperate shouts for me were unusual under normal circumstances; here in the field they usually didn't mean anything good. Hurrying to my feet I followed the group of militia men and women down the hill, hesitating as we approached the low-rise.

"Uh, not to question your judgment, but this doesn't seem safe," I pointed out, indicating the dead bodies littering the roads.

The female militia member nearest me nodded, "That's what we thought too ma'am, but when we came down to scout this morning before dawn, no one shot at us. We checked every side of the building, and there's no movement."

I frowned, instantly suspicious. "Could they have snuck away in the night?" I demanded.

She shook her head, "No ma'am, we've had a perimeter around it that they would have had to cross."

I nodded thoughtfully and after a moment indicated for them to lead us into the building. As we picked our way through the mud, the scent of something foul assaulted my nose, hitting my gag reflex hard.

I turned away, coughing and fighting the urge to throw up. To my relief, the militia members didn't seem to be faring much better than I. After a moment we pulled ourselves together and walked into the building where the scent was stronger.

As we climbed the stairs, searching for the rebels, it soon became apparent what the smell was.

Death.

Each and every rebel had been killed.

Some had been stabbed, others had throats slit, and still others had bellies hanging open, the source of the terrible smell. As we climbed higher we saw others with no wounds, but dried foam around their mouths, and vomit on the floor, and indication of poisoning.

We cleared each and every room, finding only death.

As we climbed back down the stairs I headed for the back of the building, waving the others on so I could have a moment of fresh air in private. The cold damp air hit me in the face like a slap, but I welcomed it after the stench of the building.

Staring down at the mud caking my boots, I noted blankly that it wasn't the normal dark brown, but a rusty red, tainted from the blood that had been spilled on the earth. Shaking my head, I tilted my face up to the sky, trying to clear my head.

Taking a deep breath I opened my eyes and turned to go back, pausing as a figure by the dumpster caught my eye. Stepping closer I noted with detachment that her throat had been slit, spilling blood down the front of her shirt and onto the ground below.

Without realizing it I sank to my knees beside Maggie, gently reaching out to touch her cheek, so cold and firm in death. Strands of her grey hair were tangled across her throat, forever stained.

The rain pattered down around us, filling divots in the ground, mixing with the blood of the fallen to create murky pools.

I leaned against the wall beside her and sat, wrapping my arms around my knees, unable to feel the rain or the cold. _How many more people do I add to my soul for this battle Maggie? How did you ever survive?_

_How do I?_


	15. Infection

I don't know how long I sat in the rain, slowing becoming numb, soaked to the bone, but eventually the militia men and women must have gotten concerned by my absence and come looking. When they found me, no one said a word about me sitting beside a dead older woman, or the blood on my hands and face.

"What would you like us to do with her?" a soldier asked softly, crouched beside me and Maggie. I stared blankly at him for a moment before realizing that he was talking to me and that I needed to answer.

Standing unsteadily, I shook my head faintly, "I-uh, think it would be best if we brought her back to camp. We'll bury her away from here." The soldier nodded and gathered Maggie into his arms, her limbs no longer stiff and unwieldy.

I could sense eyes on us as we walked back to camp, but I didn't have the strength to focus on anything but placing my feet slowly, one step in front of the other. The soldier ahead of me carried Maggie to the doctor's tent, depositing her there until we were prepared to leave.

I thanked him quietly and went to my tent, slumping down at the small table, my head falling into my hands. Wet strands of my hair were plastered to my neck and face and I shivered, my soaked clothing sticking to my cold skin.

Stumbling back from the table I stripped off my button down plaid shirt and the tank top I wore underneath, shivering harder as the cool air hit my wet bra and exposed skin. Grabbing my bag off my bed I yanked a heavy cable knit sweater out with one hand while unfastening my bra, tossing it aside before tugging the sweater on.

After shimmying out of my jeans and hanging them on the back of the nearby chair I crawled beneath the spare blanket on my cot, shivering. I closed my eyes and tried to relax; hoping that with sleep would come peace.

Maggie's slashed throat and pale face flashed before my eyes and I sat up with a soft gasp, running a hand over my wet hair, trying to settle my mind and stomach.

"Ambassador?" a quiet female voice called outside my tent flap.

"Come in" I called, pulling the blanket tighter around my waist. When Natasha entered I smiled faintly and waved to the nearby chairs, "Please sit," I murmured.

She nodded and sat across from me, her hands knotting together as she frowned softly, "Have you heard the news?" she asked, her brows rising as she studied me.

I tilted my head, "Doubtful, it's been a busy day. We discovered that the rebels were all dead, and I found…" I stuttered over Maggie's name and glanced up at Natasha, my stomach burning at the sympathy in her eyes.

No one in camp actually knew who Maggie was, just that I had ordered her to be buried respectfully. I took a shaky breath and decided to trust Natasha with more of my secrets.

"Her name was Maggie. She used to work for the CIA when this was the United States. She agreed to spy on the Plains Nation for us to make sure our deal would stick, and she was my source on the information that Dale would turn on us."

That information at least, I had shared with Natasha, but had warned her it was highly classified, and she couldn't know where the information had come from. She had been content with just knowing the details about Dale and hadn't pressured me on Maggie, an arrangement that left us both satisfied.

Until now.

"She died killing the rebels last night, or this morning…I'm not really sure when she actually died," I murmured, shaking my head. I ran a hand over my face, _Christ_ I was so tired. Glancing back up at Natasha I felt a spasm of relief to not see any judgment on her face, only a tired sympathy.

"I'm sorry your friend died."

I nodded and the silence grew for a moment until she spoke again, "But that's not the news I was talking about. We found Dale dead, and half the Plains Nation soldiers sent with him. It looks like they were poisoned."

My head snapped up at her words, incredulity running through me. How in the hell had Maggie poisoned them without taking out the whole camp? Shaking my head ruefully I smirked grimly at her, "Well, I'm sorry that you've become a widow so soon after the marriage."

Natasha snorted and shook her head, "Saves me having to kill him," she muttered, her tone so dark and the comment so bald that I burst out laughing, startling both of us. We laughed until tears ran down my face and Natasha's cheeks were bright pink, our chuckles dying slowly until silence pervaded the tent again.

Shaking my head, I smiled ruefully at her, "God, I really made a mess of things, didn't I?"

"You did the best you could; it's just been a rough couple of weeks," she encouraged softly.

I nodded, not really believing her. After a moment she stood and her shoulders squared into the professional stance of the soldier, "The Plains Nation survivors would like to speak with you, immediately. They want to know what you did to Dale, and what we plan to do about it."

Her jaw tightened as she relayed their words and I knew that what they must have said to her had to have been twice as rude. Smirking I nodded, "Great. Let them know I'll be joining them shortly. I just need to get dressed," I muttered, tossing back my blanket and reaching for my still damp jeans, shuddering as I pulled them on.

There was no sense in putting on dry pants when we would all just be standing around in the rains arguing. Tying my hair back, I slapped a baseball cap on and tied my boots back on before turning to find that Natasha had quietly left, presumably to tell them that I was on my way.

Pausing at the tent flap I stared out at the organized chaos of the camp and wondered, not for the first time, how this had become my life. When had I become a leader? I was still a kid, and yet here I was leading people into battles and making decisions that would forge a Republic.

Shaking my head to dispel my contemplative thoughts I stepped outside and strode to where the remaining Plains Nation members were gathered, their faces taut with anger and their loud, angry voices carrying.

As I approached a tall, burly black haired man pushed away from the rest and strode towards me, his face stormy.

"Why is Dale dead? Who killed him, huh?" he demanded angrily, his large beefy finger pointing into my face. His eyes narrowed as Natasha stepped up beside me, her presence a solid showing of protection and solidarity.

"You. Foreign bitch. We should never have let him marry you!" the man shouted, stepping towards Natasha.

Sighing, I stepped between them and lifted my hands, blocking him. To my surprise he stopped and stared down at me, his eyes blazing with anger. "You're going to protect this bitch?" he barked.

I sighed as the last vestiges of my tolerance and control slipped away with the still falling rain. Stepping toe-to-toe with the man I tilted my chin and stared up at him, my gaze steely. "That woman's name is Natasha, and she was Dale's wife, which means she's his widow. She deserves your respect for that alone. If that isn't enough to earn your respect, understand this; before the power went out she was a Marine, which means she knows how to fuck you up three ways from Friday."

I smiled widely, all shark teeth and razor sharp words as I continued, "If _that_ still isn't enough, _please,_ try to remember that you're speaking with a representative of the Monroe Republic, and as such I have the authority to hang you all for treason, for really any reason I find appropriate, as we're on Republic territory. So, who's the _bitch_ now?" I hissed.

The man's eyes widened in surprise and I had the pleasure of hearing a few of the men behind him laugh quietly. After a long moment he nodded and cleared his throat, "I'm sorry Ambassador, I meant no offense, but it seems suspicious that Dale turns up dead within the camp when none of your men and women do," he insisted.

I nodded, "You're right, it is odd, but I can't tell you how it happened for sure. All I know is that the woman who served your food within your camp is dead. We found her this morning." I said a silent thank you to Maggie for posing as a serving woman to the Plains Nation soldiers and keeping her cover, enabling me to blame a dead woman for our treachery.

The man frowned, but nodded, "I remember her. She was a mean old cow. Why would she poison us?" he demanded.

I shook my head, "I don't know, perhaps she didn't like the way she was treated as a slave. Either way, she's dead. We're taking her body, and you should take Dale home to his father. Please take your portion of the weapons and supplies here before you go and let Curt know that further payment for your participation will be on its way."

The man nodded and after a long moment he turned to Natasha, his face stiff as he spoke, "I'm sorry for your loss Widow Thompson."

Natasha nodded faintly and murmured a polite thank you, her composure remaining more intact than mine had through this whole ordeal. As the man turned to rejoin his fellow soldiers I laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Please, will you carry a letter to Curt from me?" I asked softly, waiting expectantly as the man debated. When he nodded sharply I breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you, I'll send my messenger with it shortly."

He nodded sharply and yanked his arm out of my grip, his jaw tight with annoyance as he walked away. I couldn't say I blamed him; I wasn't exactly a ball of sunshine right now either. Natasha and I watched as he and his men disbanded back to their small encampment, waiting until they were gathered around a small fire to turn away.

As we walked back into my tent I tossed my ball cap onto the table and kicked off my boots, stripping off my wet pants—determined this time to put on warm, dry clothing. When I had pulled on a pair of sweatpants I sat at the table, setting two glasses down beside my nearly empty bottle of rum.

I waved a hand to Natasha, "Come on, help me write this letter," I encouraged.

After a brief hesitation she smiled and strode over, sinking down into the chair across from me, quickly pouring us each a few fingers of rum. I lifted my glass in a silent toast and grinned when she spoke, "Fuck men."

Laughing, I nodded and sipped my rum, enjoying the burn for a moment. "Indeed," I murmured, rubbing a hand over my face as I contemplated what to write to Curt's father. In all likelihood we had broken our peace treaty with the man by allowing his son to be killed, but if what Maggie had told me was true, they had never intended on honoring it.

I set my pen to the paper and began to write, occasionally asking Natasha about the wording of a phrase here or there until I was satisfied. Finally I nodded and folded up the letter, sliding it into an envelope and sealing it, dripping hot wax onto it and adding my official seal onto it.

Leaning back in my chair I stared tiredly down into my empty cup and shook my head, "I need a vacation," I murmured.

Natasha laughed, "I need a hot shower," she said with a wistful sigh.

I nodded and grinned, thinking of the last time I had a hot bath. "Pizza…I want pizza," I sighed, thinking longingly of goey cheese and crispy crust. "Mmm, ok, this isn't productive," I muttered, leaning back in my chair and shaking my head.

I slid the letter across the table and smiled at Natasha, "Thank you for all your help today," I said softly, grateful to have a friend in the impressive woman.

She smiled back, "I should be thanking you Becca, that man was ready to take my head off," she replied.

I shook my head, waving her off, "Please, you could take him! I've seen you fight bigger guys than that!"

She nodded, "But it's still awesome to have a friend who will stand up for you. I've not had that in a long time," she murmured.

I stared at her thoughtfully and then smiled hopefully, "Would you like to be part of my private guard?" I asked, "I want it to be exclusively women, and I'd like you to be in charge of it. If it's something that would interest you, of course."

I waited on pins and needles as she appeared to contemplate the suggestion.

"Sort of like Secret Service?" she asked, her brows rising in interest. I nodded and she grinned, "I'm in. What will the President think of this?" she asked.

I shrugged and rocked back on my chair, "If he's smart, nothing," I quipped. I couldn't wait to get home and tell him all about it, honestly. I missed Bass, and I wanted to see Miles. I realized that they were indeed my family now, and I had been away from them for far too long.

Lifting my eyes from the top of the table I smiled at Natasha, "Let the camp know we'll move out at daybreak. It's time to go home."

She nodded and stood, gathering my lettering and tucking it into her jacket, keeping it from being destroyed by the rain. As she walked out of the tent I sighed softly, happily. It felt wonderful to have someone on my side, someone whom I could trust with my secrets and my decisions, who didn't have a stake in the outcome and only wanted the best for the Republic and the people in it.

I leaned over and grabbed my journal from my open trunk, opening it to a clean page. Ideas for the Republic came fresh and new each day, and I had more after the past few weeks that I needed to get written down.

As I wrote, eagerness began to fill me. I was ready to go home and change things, improve the lives of our people and make the Republic the wonderful place I knew it could be.

Maybe an empire didn't have to be built entirely on blood.

* * *

**August 18** **th** **, 2016**

The sight of Philadelphia's crumbling skyline on the horizon had never been more welcome than now; after the past month we had lost 20 men and women during our battles with Canada in Augusta and Hamilton.

Of our original 150 militia, it was disheartening to see so many gone and so many more injured or ill. I knew they were pleased to be home, and would be given time to rest once there, but a part of me worried that perhaps what we had won hadn't been worth our losses.

As we grew closer to the city a figure on horseback approached at a quick clip, waving as he grew closer. I frowned and nudged Beda into a trot, riding out to meet him, my stomach knotting in worry.

As the figure approached I could see that it was Jeremy, a bandana pulled over his mouth, and a grim wrinkle between his brows. My stomach sank and I pulled Beda to a halt, "Jeremy? What's going on?" I called out as he approached.

He sighed deeply and shook his head, "There's cholera in the city. We can't let you in. It's not safe."

My stomach dropped and I closed my eyes in horror, terror gripping me. _Bass…Miles…are they safe? Alive?_ I opened my eyes and looked to Jeremy, "The President and the General?" I demanded.

He nodded, "Alive, both in Headquarters. They both have ordered that you stay out of the city. Supplies will be sent out to you to ensure your company's survival until the disease passes."

I gritted my teeth but nodded in agreement, "Fine. Can you please carry a note to Sebastian?" I asked hopefully. He nodded and after a moment I turned Beda and rode back to the head of the camp train, spreading the word to make camp.

I quickly pulled my stationary out and wrote a letter to Bass, my hands shaking and leaving splotches of ink on the page as I did.

_Bass,_

_I leave the city for a month and a half and you let cholera in? Remind me never to leave you alone again. Please don't go into the city and get sick. Stay in Independence Hall and please stay safe. I'll kill you if you get sick._

_Yours,_

_Becca_

I quickly sealed the letter and handed it over to Jeremy, "Make sure he stays safe, you hear me?" I demanded quietly as he reached for the letter. Jeremy nodded slowly and tugged on the envelope, brow furrowing as I refused to let go. "Promise me Jer," I ordered.

He sighed and relented, still holding the envelope, "I promise," he murmured before tugging the envelope from my hand and nudging his horse away, turning back towards the city. I watched him go, my stomach in knots.

* * *

**August 25** **th** **, 2016**

Sweltering sun bore down on our camp, irritating already high tempers within the small confines of our temporary home. We dug three new graves; our most grievously injured having passed away in the night from infection, with four more soldiers hanging in the balance.

I stared down at the white shrouds as they were lowered into the ground, wondering how many more people we would lose before this was all over. I turned away and walked slowly through the syrupy heat until I came to a small rise in the ground that overlooked the city, lowering myself to sit in the dried out grass.

Smoke rose up from the city, turning the sky ashy and grey; they were burning the dead as fast as they could, but from what Jeremy was able to tell me in his short visits, the disease was burning through the city like wildfire.

I slid Bass's latest letter from my pocket and ran a finger under the flap of the envelope, pulling the letter out slowly, wanting to make it last. Flipping it open I began to read.

_Becca,_

_We still don't know where the cholera came from. We haven't had disease like this since we settled the city. Everyone has always been careful to keep the water supply clean…I can't think of how it happened. Shit. I'm just glad that you're safe outside of the city. I'm sorry that more wounded men and women are dying in camp, I'll send more medical supplies to you._

_Are you feeling well? Jeremy said you looked healthy. I miss you._

_I'm tired of being locked in this damn building. I want to see you, to hold you again._

_Come home soon._

_Bass_

I sighed and ran my fingers over the words, "Come home soon," I breathed. _Home_. It was comforting to think of Bass as home, as somewhere safe. It was all I had ever wanted really, to feel like I belonged somewhere, with someone.

My own family had slowly, over the years glorified my brother's every action, especially when he joined the military. I couldn't blame him really, he was an awesome older brother, and I loved him, but it hurt to see your own parents so obviously favor your sibling.

After he died, it was like a part of my parents died. They were pleased for me that I did well in school, but it seemed like they were never able to summon the strength of love that they had for Edward, for me.

The thundering of hoof beats broke through my melancholy thoughts, forcing my gaze up from the dried out grass I had been crushing between my fingers. Jeremy was riding like hell towards me, his horse lathered from heavy exertion in the heat.

I stood, worried about what could have driven out to see us when he had just been here last night. He reined in his horse a few feet away and gasped for breath, "You have to come, it's Bass…he's sick."

Inhaling sharply, my hand went to my stomach, feeling as though I had been stabbed by his words. "W-what about Miles?" I managed to ask.

Jeremy shook his head, "He left the city early yesterday to gather medical supplies and bring more doctors."

I nodded and looked around in a daze, his words buzzing around in my head.

"Becca! You need to come now!" Jeremy barked.

I looked back up at him sharply, focusing. "Right. Take me to my tent and I'll get Beda. She's fresh, we'll leave your horse here." I strode forward and extended my hand to him, clambering up behind him on his tired horse.

We quickly rode into camp and to my tent, unsaddling and watering his horse as I saddled Beda, speaking softly with Natasha. Within moments she had gathered her things and another horse, joining us, ignoring Jeremy's protests.

"She can't come, we'll attract too much attention with more people."

"She comes or I don't."

He grumbled and shook his head but agreed, swinging into the saddle behind me, looping his arm around my waist as we moved out.

As we descended into the city I lifted my bandana up to my nose, securing it against the stench of death, illness and burning bodies. Everywhere I looked were the signs of disease; bodies lay in the streets as people struggled to move them, and still others helped the sick to tents marked _Infirmary._

We stabled the horses quickly and ran to the Hall, fending off people begging for help. Jeremy slid the bolts on the doors after we entered and I felt guilt sluice through me for feeling better as they thunked solidly into place.

Without a glance backwards at my two friends I took off through the halls to Bass's quarters, fear making my heart pound unsteadily. Shoving the door open I stumbled to a halt at the sight of a doctor hovering over Bass as he vomited into a large basin.

I studied him unnoticed for the moment and my worry grew. He looked not just pale, but grey, his eyes sunken and his hands shook where he reached for the support of the doctor's arm. His muscles looked ropy against his skin, taut as he retched.

As he stilled I stepped forward, the floorboard creaking under my feet, drawing attention my way, finally. Bass's eyes were hazy as they met mine and it pained me to see it took him a moment to realize it was me.

When he did, frustration crossed his face, a frown forming on his lips. "B-becca…what are you doing here?" he murmured, his voice weak. He pushed the doctor away that was trying to force him back against the pillows and glared at me, trying to stand.

I shook my head and quickly crossed the room, laying a hand on his bare chest, pushing him back until he relented and lay back against his pillows. "I told you I would kill you if you got sick," I whispered, my voice shaky as I tried not to cry.

He sighed deeply and his glare weakened, though he still looked irritated, "I told you not to come," he murmured, sounding exhausted.

"Yea, because I listen _so_ well" I murmured wryly, finally eliciting a small smile from him. I glanced over at the doctor who was hovering nearby and lifted a brow, "What's his prognosis?" I demanded, my tone brooking no argument.

The man nodded, "It's definitely cholera. He's been vomiting and experiencing diarrhea since last night, though the vomiting is more severe. We are struggling to get enough fluids to stay in his body."

"Do we have IV fluids?" I replied, my hand resting on Bass's shoulder, feeling how hot his skin was, worrying running through me about his fever.

"Not enough. We are trying to save as many people as possible. The water has tested clean, but as an extra precaution we are boiling it. It's a simple matter of his body being able to retain it."

I nodded, "I'm here to help. What can I do?" I demanded.

"Becca no, you have to leave," Bass protested.

I turned and glared at him over my bandana, "If you think I'm leaving you here alone, that fever has fried your brain. Now shut up and rest."

A faint smirk crossed his lips and he reached a hand up to cover mine, squeezing it softly. "Yes ma'am," he murmured softly.

I turned back to the doctor, lifting a brow, "Now, how can I help?"

He nodded, "Get him to drink water as often as possible. Apply cool clothes to help lower the fever, and we'll give him painkillers to try and combat it as well."

I nodded and then frowned, "Have we checked the local hospitals to see if there's any treatments that were left behind?" I asked.

The doctor nodded, "We haven't found any. We think there might be some at the NIH in Maryland. The General was dispatched there to look. God willing, he'll be successful."

I nodded and turned back to Bass, sitting on the bed beside him, reaching for the cloth soaking in a basin of cool water. Wringing it out, I ran it over his face slowly, wiping away the sweat beaded on his brow.

The floorboards creaked behind us and a moment later the door opened and closed, leaving us in quiet.

Bass's eyes had slid shut, and I studied him again, up close this time. His eyelids were pearlescent with exhaustion and there were fine lines around them, as well as around his full lips. I carefully wiped his mouth and then down his neck, watching his pulse beat slowly there.

"Are you in pain?" I whispered.

He shook his head faintly, "Not much right now, it was worse earlier. They gave me something."

I made a soft noise and resoaked the rag, wringing it out before wiping off his chest and abdomen, lifting his arms to run the cloth over his fine muscles slowly.

"That feels wonderful" he whispered, his brow furrowing.

I nodded and soaked the rag one last time, this time laying it across his forehead, allowing the cool water to soak into his curls. He sighed in relief and I reached for his hand, taking it in mine. He squeezed it softly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips, "Thank you."

"For what? The sponge bath? That's every guy's dream right?" I quipped gently.

He laughed softly once, his stomach rolling, but it must have caused him pain because a sharp wince pulled his face and he reached for his abdomen. I instantly felt terrible for joking and hushed him, "Sorry," I murmured.

He shook his head, "Not your fault." He took a few deep breaths and his eyes cracked open, finding my face. "Not for the sponge bath. For coming. For staying. Even though you shouldn't," he whispered, his voice weaker than before.

My throat grew thick with emotion and I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "You're my family Sebastian, I wouldn't ever leave you."

He gripped my hand tighter and smiled weakly at me before his eyes slid shut and he sank back further into the pillows, clearly exhausted. I held his hand as he fell asleep, his breathing slowing, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that held me captive, each breath precious.

"Don't you dare die Sebastian" I whispered to his sleeping form, "I love you too much."

* * *

_**AN: Hey my darlings! I really hope you're enjoying the story, because I am really loving writing it, it's such a fun one to explore. I wanted to tell you all that for the last chapter that the best song to listen to for the last half is "Make it Rain" by Ed Sheeran...it's truly perfect. Thank you all for reading, following and favoriting! Please review!** _


	16. Plauge

**August 27** **th** **, 2016**

After two days of vomit, diarrhea, extreme fever, and seizures, I finally thought that Bass was starting to stabilize. Miles hadn't returned yet from Maryland with the treatment for the cholera outbreak, and it had continued to burn through the city.

I had so far avoided coming down with the disease, but after two days of working to keep Bass alive with little rest for myself, I was starting to stumble. This morning I had fallen asleep briefly while folding sheets, the half hour of rest the most sleep I had gotten in nearly eight hours.

I scrubbed at the sheets from Bass's bed that he had soiled in the night, my arms aching and my head pounding. Nausea swelled as my head swam and I paused in my laundry attempts, lifting my arm to wipe my brow, my breath shaky.

Footsteps approached from behind me and a moment later Natasha squatted down beside me, a bandana covering her nose and mouth, her brows furrowed in concern. "When was the last time you ate?" she demanded.

I smiled tiredly through my own bandana at my friend and near constant companion for the last two days and shook my head, "I don't remember," I murmured, leaning back against the wall, my hands dropping the sheet back into the searing hot water.

She nodded, sighing tiredly, "I thought so," she murmured. "Let's go find you some food okay?" she urged, motioning for me to follow her as she stood.

I stared down at the bucket full of sheets I was in the middle of washing and sighed, I so desperately wanted to go with her, but I needed to finish this task first. "I can't, I need to do this first," I insisted.

Natasha stared down at me for a minute before shaking her head and sighing in exasperation. Sinking down onto the floor beside me she grabbed a handful of sheets and began scrubbing them viciously, lifting a brow at me, "Come on, let's get this done," she urged softly.

I smiled gratefully at her and resumed scrubbing, wringing out the sheets as we worked, standing and hanging them in the large dining room that had been turned into a work room—cleaning sheets, folding bandages, boiling water, whatever needed to be done, it was done here for Bass and the other militia members who had fallen ill within the walls of our headquarters.

As we hung the last of the sheets I sighed and stretched, wincing as my aching back twinged and pulled, begging for a soft surface to relax against. Wiping my damp hands off on my jeans I smiled faintly at Natasha, "Ready?" I murmured.

She nodded and led the way to the small common area that had been set up further down the hall, the smell of fresh baked bread and soup hitting me in the stomach like a wrecking ball. Tears sprang to my eyes and I stumbled, the need for food so strong it made my knees weak.

Natasha grabbed my arm and led me to a nearby table, helping me sit down, refusing to let me go on my own to get food, instead urging me to stay and rest. Resting my face in my hands I closed my eyes and sighed deeply, exhaustion running so deeply through me it felt like my bones themselves were aching.

A moment later the scent of food grew stronger and I heard Natasha slide into a chair beside me. Lifting my head slowly I sighed happily at the sight of a full bowl of chicken soup and a hunk of bread resting before me. Without hesitating I began shoveling spoonfuls into my mouth, tearing off chunks of bread to dip into the broth, moans of delight escaping me as the food hit my stomach.

Natasha laughed watching me eat, shaking her head, "Slow down, you're going to choke," she murmured, taking a bite of her own bowl of soup.

I shook my head, swallowing a bite, "Not possible, I'm not even chewing at this point," I gasped before taking another large bite. As my stomach began to fill however, I slowed, savoring the bites I took.

When the bowl was empty and my bread was gone I sighed deeply and smiled at Natasha, "Thank you for making me eat, I needed it." I glanced over at the soup supply station and frowned thoughtfully, "I should take some broth to Bass. He needs something with nutrients in it."

Natasha nodded, "I can do it. You need rest. Go sleep, and I'll take care of him for a few hours," she insisted.

_A few hours?! I can't leave him alone that long! What if something happens? If I wasn't there…_ I shook my head, "No Nat, I can't. If something happened…" I swallowed hard and shook my head, "No."

Natasha frowned at me and shook her head, "Becca, I'm the head of your security but I'm also your friend. You won't be any good to Bass if you collapse from exhaustion. You need to rest, and if I have to knock you out to make sure you get it, I will," she warned, lifting a brow at me, her jaw tightening.

My hand tightened into a fist and my jaw clenched as I bit back a harsh response. "Fine, but if he gets any worse, you have to come and get me, do you hear me?" I ordered. She nodded, and I knew from the look in her eye that we had an understanding.

Sighing, I ran a hand over my face and nodded, "Okay, come get me in a few hours and I'll relieve you."

"Good. Now _go rest_ ," Natasha urged, smiling softly at me. I smiled faintly back and nodded, lifting my hands in surrender before turning and walking slowly to my room, one of the only rooms in the building that had remained untouched by the need to refurbish for the plague.

Shutting the door behind me slowly, I sighed as the chaos from outside fell away, leaving me in a quiet that I hadn't been in for days. By now my room looked unfamiliar after so long away, with its quilted blanket on the bed and the wrought iron headboard, the stuffed bookshelves and the writing desk I had painted one rainy weekend with Bass and Miles' help.

Tears flooded my eyes as the room's familiar scent flooded my nose, reminding me that I was home, but that not everything was right. Kicking my boots off I lay down onto my bed, pulling the other pillow against my chest tightly as my eyes slid shut.

Oh how I wanted that pillow to be Bass. I ached to hold him in my arms again, whole and healthy. This morning when I had held him as he vomited, I could feel how weak he was becoming, his limbs growing thinner.

God I was scared.

I didn't know what else to do but keep trying to make sure he survived. Christ, I don't know what I would do if he died. I shuddered at the thought and dug my fingers into the pillow, shaking as tears began to fall.

"P-Please God, p-please, let Bass survive this. Let our city survive this," I whispered, tears streaming down my face as I prayed. I wiped the tears from my face and took deep breaths, trying to calm myself, knowing that Bass was in good hands with Natasha.

Slowly I relaxed, taking slow even breaths, my eyes growing heavier. As my back relaxed from days of hard labor and extreme exhaustion, I sank deeper into the mattress, feeling like I was floating, my body weightless.

_Bass…._

* * *

"Becca?"

I buried my face into the pillow, trying to ignore the voice calling my name.

"Becca, you asked me to wake you in a few hours. I'm sorry, but it's time to get up," Natasha urged softly.

I groaned softly and rolled over, cracking an eye at Nat, "What time is it?" I asked, my voice croaking sleepily.

She smiled softly, "It's 5pm. I let you sleep for four and a half hours," she lifted her hands defensively at the look on my face, "I know, but everything is fine with Bass and you needed your rest."

I rose slowly from the bed, wincing as my body protested, still aching and sore after the long rest I had just had. "How did he handle the food?" I murmured, pulling on my boots.

"He kept it down. He hasn't gotten sick the whole time you've been resting. The doctor seems optimistic he'll make it through the night without more diarrhea. The President is sleeping now, but he asked to see you when you woke."

I glanced up at her sharply, "He asked for me? He hasn't been particularly lucid over the past day and a half."

She nodded and smiled, "After he ate, he slept for about an hour and then woke up again and asked for more, so we gave him more broth and water. It was then that he started to ask how you were doing, and if you had rested at all. He remembers that you've been by his side, and he's worried about you," Nat commented softly, her own face lined with worry.

I sighed and stood, smiling at her gently, "Well, if he's doing better then maybe I can really rest soon. Maybe that means this will all be over soon." I laid a hand on her shoulder, "Why don't you rest here and I'll take a shift with him. We'll see how he does through the night," I murmured.

Natasha nodded gratefully and sank down onto my bed, "Thanks Becca," she murmured, smiling tiredly. I smiled and nodded back, pulling the door shut behind me softly, leaving her to rest. My feet carried me quickly through the building, back to Bass's bedside, the stench of illness pervading the room.

I swallowed hard and went to Bass's bedside, standing over him, watching his still muscular chest rising and falling as he slept. His eyes were sunken into his face and his already angular cheekbones stood out like the prow of a ship under his skin, the pallor of his skin waxy and grey.

"He is strong, but he is weakening. He needs more broth in his system if he is going to survive."

I turned slightly to find the doctor by my side and nodded faintly, "What would you say are the odds of him surviving?" I whispered, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"If he experiences no more vomiting or diarrhea tonight?" He hummed thoughtfully before continuing and I wanted to punch him, "I would say somewhere around half. He's still severely dehydrated, and his fever is barely under 102 at the moment. He hasn't had any seizures since last night, which is a good sign, but I'm concerned still."

I nodded and swallowed hard, "Okay, thank you," I whispered, blinking hard to keep any tears from falling. I watched Bass, unable to look away, hearing the doctor retreat a moment later. Straightening my shoulders I turned away from Bass's bed and began gathering up dirty bowls and sheets, taking them to be washed.

Walking to the common area I grabbed a tray and filled four bowls with broth and two more with soup, tucking a loaf of bread under my arm before walking slowly back to the room where the sick militia members were being cared for.

For the next two hours I fed the men and women in our command and made sure the doctor and nurse in rotation had eaten, ordering them to sit and rest a few minutes while they did. Standing from the bed of a woman no older than me I stifled a groan and stacked her empty bowl onto another, carrying them down the hallway to the common area to be boiled and sterilized.

"Ambassador?"

I turned and found Bass's nurse in the door, hesitation on her face. Fear made my heart skip and my knees weak. I swayed and reached out to lay a hand on the wall, "Is he alive?" I demanded.

She looked startled and then nodded, "Yes! Oh, I'm so sorry; it's just that he woke up. You wanted to know," she replied, smiling nervously.

I exhaled sharply and nodded, "I did, thank you. I'll be right there," I murmured, giving her a weak smile. She nodded and disappeared around the corner, leaving me to collapse against the wall, my face falling into my hands as I tried to hold it together.

Taking a deep shaky breath I nodded faintly and moved away from the wall, heading back to Bass's room quickly. Pausing outside his door I exhaled nervously before entering, wondering what condition he would be in.

Taking a steadying breath I stepped over the threshold and lifted my eyes to find Bass propped up in bed, his eyes half open as the doctor bent over him, taking his pulse and listening to his heartbeat.

I moved closer, making sure my bandana was secure around my nose before moving to sit in the chair beside his bed, reaching out to take his hand in mine. Bass smiled tiredly at me, his dry lips cracking as they pulled over his teeth, his eyes glassy from fever.

Heart aching I squeezed his hand gently, "It's good to see you awake," I murmured, "It's like you've been sick or something," I joked weakly.

Bass coughed, trying to laugh and I shook my head, reaching a hand out to lie against his cheek gently, pursing my lips at the sensation of his hot skin beneath my cooler palm. As his coughing subsided his lips pulled into a grimacing smile, "You've been working hard from what I hear," he whispered.

I nodded, "There's been a lot to do, trying to keep you alive and make sure that the others within the building live." I ran the back of my hand across my forehead and sighed, "We lost two people this afternoon. The city is seeing the worst of it, but we're trying to make sure that they have plenty of soup and assistance with clean water, sheets and medical staff. We'll be lucky if Miles makes it back with the medicine from the NIH in the next 24 hours."

Bass squeezed my hand and I looked up at him tiredly, smiling behind my bandana at his concerned look. "It's going to be okay, I swear," I murmured, not sure if I was trying to convince him or me.

Bass stroked the back of my hand with his thumb and sighed tiredly, a sound so worn and exhausted that it almost brought tears to my eyes. He had never looked so weak before, he had always been someone I could lean on. Swallowing around the tight knot in my throat I smiled softly, "You're doing well, are you hungry? I can get more soup," I offered.

Bass shook his head and sighed, "I feel nauseas again, my head is pounding." His eyes wrinkled in pain as he sank back against the pillows, taking a deep breath. I slid my hand from his and went to get a glass of water for him, grabbing a couple of painkillers, hoping that since he had eaten some broth they wouldn't irritate his stomach.

Sinking down onto his bed I cupped a hand around his neck, pulling him forward gently to sip from the glass until he leaned back, shaking his head to indicate he didn't want anymore. I lifted the painkillers to his lips and nodded encouragingly, "Take these," I murmured.

He grimaced but nodded, opening his mouth to take them along with a swallow of water. I set the glass aside and reached for the cloth soaking in a basin nearby, wringing it out before beginning to wipe his face off.

I watched as Bass's eyes slid shut in relief, his shoulders slumping as the tension washed away under my gentle hands. Running the cloth through his sweat soaked curls I massaged his scalp lightly, smiling as a soft groan escaped him.

Setting the cloth aside I began to rub my thumbs lightly over his temples in gentle circular motions, watching as his eyes fluttered, his breathing slowing as he relaxed further. When he had fallen asleep I pulled my hands away slowly, running a finger across his sharp cheekbone unhurriedly.

I stood from his bed slowly, not wanting to disturb him, and gathered up the cloth and glass to be cleaned. Nodding to the doctor I walked tiredly from the room and dropped off the supplies before heading outside, needing a breath of fresh air.

Tugging my bandana down I sank down onto the steps of Independence Hall, running a hand over my hair and tugging it out of its ponytail, sighing as it sank down around my shoulders. Looking out at the city I grimaced, wagons were busy hauling the dead out of the streets to be buried or burned, and men and women scurried in and out of the infirmaries, caring for the ill.

The sun set slowly, painting the sky a bloody red, the August heat turning the scent of the city into a writhing, seething mess of disease and death. I grimaced and longed for a cool breeze, it hadn't rained since we had gotten back and it felt like I hadn't bathed in weeks.

Frowning I glanced down at my clothes and wrinkled my nose, they were stained with food, blood and other unmentionable stains. I had sweated through my tank top more than once but hadn't found the time to change, and I knew I had to smell.

Standing slowly I walked back into the building and went to the common area, grabbing a bucket to fill with sanitized water. There were two large cauldrons that were nearly constantly boiling water, and another holding cool water that had already been boiled, ready for use.

Filling my bucket I carried it to my room and pushed the door open slowly, wincing as the hinges creaked. Natasha lay limply on my bed, still sleeping, and I smiled faintly, glad that she was getting some rest.

Setting the bucket down outside the door I walked softly to my dresser and picked up my empty washing basin, setting my towel and soap inside before sliding my drawers open slowly, wincing at the soft creaks, and pulled out a new, clean outfit.

Carrying everything carefully I lifted the bucket once more and pulled the door shut behind me, leaving Natasha to sleep. Treading lightly down the hallway I went to my office, pushing my door open and locking it behind me.

Our offices were sacred space, untouched by the disease, yet I hadn't been in here since my return. Pulling the blinds down on the windows I set the washing basin on my desk and filled it carefully before stripping off my smelly, sweaty, dirty clothes and tossing them into a pile in the corner.

As I scrubbed my body clean I sighed in relief, finally feeling uncontaminated by the past two days. The water in the basin had turned grey before I made it to my waist and I quickly went to the window, cracking it open to pour the water out onto the dry grass.

The warm breeze the floated through the window felt delightful against my damp skin, sending a shiver over my body. I turned back to the bucket and refilled the basin, resuming washing, scrubbing until my body was fresh and smelled like the lavender soap in my hand instead of sweat and vomit.

Tossing the used water out again I filled the basin one last time and bent my head over, wetting my hair and scrubbing the soap in until the grease and dirt was gone. Slowly pouring water over my head I rinsed away the lather until my hair was clean and refreshed, wringing it out with one hand before flipping my head back, spraying water over the room without a second though.

Grabbing my towel I quickly squeezed my hair, wringing out more water before patting my skin dry and reaching for my clothes. Pulling on my underwear I rubbed on a spare amount of deodorant, something I used infrequently to try and preserve my supply.

After pulling on my jeans I slid on a dark blue camisole with yellow flowers splashed across in a bright pattern that I hoped would brighten my mood. Instead of tucking my feet into boots I remained barefoot, dumping out the remains of the dirty water before wiping out the basin and piling my dirty clothes inside.

Carrying my belongings to my room I opened the door slowly, tiptoeing inside to set the basin down before retreating, carrying my dirty laundry with me to take to the washbasins. I would let Natasha sleep for another couple of hours before waking her and making her eat.

Sitting down at the washbasin I dumped my clothes in and added detergent, reaching into the scalding water without a wince and began scrubbing. When the last of my clothes were clean I stood and hung them to dry, wiping my hands on my jeans to dry them.

Brushing back a strand of hair I stretched my back and reached up to readjust my bun, trying to think of what I could do next. It seemed like there was so much to do, and yet I felt like I was at loose ends, waiting for Bass to get better.

"You look like you're refreshed," Natasha's voice called softly from behind me.

I turned and lifted a brow, "Aren't you supposed to be resting?" I countered.

She smiled, "I'm good, thanks. What were you thinking about so intently?" she asked curiously.

I shrugged, "Just thinking that I don't know what to do. Bass is sleeping again and I've done so much already to stay busy, I don't know what else to do."

"Why don't we get something to eat and then go visit the infirmary in the city? We can see if we can lend a hand there for a little bit, it'll take your mind off of things for awhile," she suggested.

I nodded, smiling gratefully at her. "That sounds like a good idea."

We walked quietly together to the common area and got steaming bowls of soup with small chunks of bread, sitting down together and eating quickly. It was pleasant sitting in silence, just enjoying each other's company without feeling the need to fill the silence, something it felt like I hadn't done in ages.

When we had finished we made our way out of the building and down into the city infirmaries where they tents teemed with activity, even at this time of the evening. Nodding to the doctors and nurses, I stepped forward, "How can we help?" I offered.

I saw more than one person look at us skeptically, but a doctor nearby nodded and gave us a grateful smile, "We can use more hands, thank you. Are you comfortable cleaning sheets or feeding patients?" he asked, turning away to hold a basin for a woman who was vomiting.

"We'll do anything you need," I replied, stepping forward.

He nodded and pointed down the row of cots, "Take that side then, they all need broth." He looked at Nat and shrugged apologetically, "You've got cleaning sheets it looks like."

She smiled, "That's fine," and approached the large pile of soiled sheets, rolling up her sleeves as she went.

I turned to my task with a single mindedness, the hours slipping by, the sky darkening and the stars appearing one by one. As I was helping a nurse lift a body into the corpse wagon I heard a commotion in the streets, the approaching sound of hoofbeats and shouting growing closer by the second.

Tossing the body onto the wagon I went to the tent and washed my hands thoroughly before walking out into the street to see what the commotion was about, tugging my bandana down for a breath of air.

A moment later a rider came around the corner, his dark head low over hishorse'ss' lathered neck, eyes blazing as he cantered down the street. As he grew closer my heart skipped, it was Miles!

Sprinting down the street towards him I waved wildly, grinning ear to ear. He pulled on the horse's' reins, slowing until his horse was dancing in a circle around me, his lanky form hanging over the side of the horse as though he might collapse.

I stepped forward frowning, "Miles, what's wrong? You look like you've ridden straight out to get here," I murmured, reaching up to lay a hand on his flushed cheek.

He grumbled softly and pushed my hand away, "I did. I've brought the treatment for the cholera, and some other stuff. We got lucky."

My stomach turned in delight at his words, relief flooding me. "Oh thank God. Thank you Miles, thank you," I whispered, tears flooding my eyes, blinding me for a moment. I swiped at my eyes as he dismounted, and I heard a wagon rolling up.

As I sniffled and my eyes cleared I looked up and saw the wagon heading for Independence Hall, and even from here I could see it was laden with boxes of medication. "We have to make sure the people in the city get the treatment, they can't find out that we have it and they never got it," I murmured.

Miles nodded, "Of course. My men are going to distribute it now. You should take a dosage to Bass," he encouraged.

"I will, but first you should get some dinner Miles. You look positively wrung out," I murmured worriedly.

Miles shook his head, "I'll eat later, I've got to make sure this medicine gets distributed."

Sighing, I shook my head as we walked to the wagon, Miles appeared to be limping and his right arm looked like it had a bandage wrapped around it. He was in no condition to be still on his feet, but I knew that he would fight until I forced him down.

Miles tied up his horse and began ordering his men to distribute the medicine through the city infirmaries, instructing them to help the doctors and nurses with anything they needed. I took a package of the medicine and ran inside; heading to our militia and the doctors overseeing them, making sure that the medicine was being distributed before going to see Bass.

"I've got the medicine to treat him!" I declared softly to the doctor, pulling him aside and showing him the box. He nodded eagerly and took the box, pouring out the rehydration salts into a glass and setting up the IV almost joyfully.

Bass barely roused as the IV slid into his vein, but the doctor insisted we wake him and give him the rehydration salts, an action I felt terrible about when Bass protested sleepily, sounding like a little boy.

I sat on the bed and encouraged him softly, holding the glass to his lips so he could drink, making sure all the medicine was gone before I allowed him to rest again. His eyes were barely open the entire time, and when I set the glass aside he had fallen back against the pillows, his chest heaving.

I brushed back the curls from his brow and smiled tiredly, "Sleep Sebastian. Sleep and be well," I whispered. I watched as he slipped back into a deep sleep, the circles under his eyes still dark.

Slipping off the bed I sank into the chair next to him and propped my feet up on the cot, closing my eyes, just for a minute. I just needed a few moments of rest. Then I would go and help distribute the medicine in the city…

* * *

"He's crashing! Hurry!"

My eyes flew open at the anxious cries, the familiar voice of the doctor filling the room. The sight before me in the pale candlelight was a horrifying one. Bass was seizing violently, his eyes rolled back in his head, and blood streamed from his nose.

"What the hell is going on?! What's wrong with him?!" I shouted, jumping up from my chair, sending it clattering to the floor.

The doctor shook his head at me, trying to keep a steady hand on Bass, a syringe of something in his hand, "His pressure spiked, we think he has an underlying infection. It's been bubbling in his system and has been kept at bay by the minimal amounts of medicine we've been able to provide. It came roaring to the surface when they were replaced with the actual treatment for cholera was introduced."

I shook my head confused, "What's that?" I demanded, motioning towards the syringe.

"Antibiotics. We're hoping it'll work against whatever he's got." He slipped the needle into Bass's vein and depressed the plunger, sending the treatment into Bass's body. He quickly moved to add a new bag to the IV, "This is a treatment for the high blood pressure, it should stop the seizures."

I nodded and watched as the medicine began to drip into the line, biting my knuckle in worry, praying that it would help. Bass had stopped seizing violently before the extra bag had been placed, but he had remained twitching and spasming, grunts of pain issuing from his throat.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually his spasms slowed and he stilled, slumping against the mattress, his body sheened with sweat. I lifted my gaze to the doctor, "Is he going to make it?" I whispered.

He sighed and ran a hand across his neck, "I don't know. If he makes it through the next few hours, I'll be more hopeful. We'll see," he murmured.

I nodded and turned away, a sick feeling in my stomach. The sight of Miles in the doorway froze me, my heart plummeting at the look on his face. Stepping forward I collapsed against his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.

His arms wrapped around me and I shuddered, tears slipping down my cheeks. "What if he dies Miles?" I whispered, my heart aching at voicing the thought out loud.

"He won't Becca; he's too strong for that. I promise." He squeezed me tighter and rested his chin on top of my head, "It's going to be okay," he whispered.

I nodded softly, but I wasn't sure he or I believed it.


	17. Healing

**August 28** **th** **, 2016**

Humid heat sweltered in the sick room, turning the already close air into a stew of rancid scents; blood, feces, and vomit. I choked on the air and wiped my brow with the back of my hand, carrying yet more ruined sheets to the laundry, my own clothes soaked in sweat and other, less pleasant stains.

Bass had made it through the night, but was struggling with each hour. His temperature had surged twice and the antibiotics were barely helping it seemed to me, but the doctor seemed more optimistic than he had last night.

Dumping the sheets into the large basin I wiped my hands off before going to wash them thoroughly, scrubbing them until my hands were red and raw.

"If you keep that up you're going to end up with burger for hands," Miles murmured from behind me.

I swallowed hard, blinking back tears of stress and exhaustion and turned around, smiling tiredly at him, "I'll have to find some gloves then," I murmured.

Miles sighed and shook his head, slinging an arm around my shoulder, tugging me out of the room. "How much sleep did you get last night kid?" he asked softly.

I shrugged nonchalantly, "A few hours. Enough," I replied, my gaze firmly on the floor ahead. Miles squeezed my shoulder and my arm ached from the simple gesture of kindness; the number of bodies I had helped lift in the past days had grown from dozens to at least a hundred.

"Listen, Becca, you need to get some sleep. Bass needs you to be strong, and you can't do that if you pass out." H paused and stepped aside, frowning at me, "How do you think he would feel if he knew you were working yourself to the bone like this?" he asked.

I sighed and shook my head, hating that he was guilt tripping me. "Fuck Miles, I know," I breathed, "But what else am I supposed to do?" I asked, frustrated. "Act like everything is okay?" I demanded.

Miles shook his head, "That's not what I said, and you know it. You need to go get something to eat, you look like a ghost. Then wash off, and sleep for at least four hours. I don't want to see your face before 2pm, got it?" he ordered firmly.

I glared at him for a moment before my resolve weakened, the pounding in my head making my eyes hurt. "Fine…" I breathed, my eyes sliding shut for a moment, shaking my head. Miles roped an arm around my shoulders once more, rubbing his hand up and down my arm comfortingly as he guided me down the hall to my room.

Pushing the door open to my room he smiled softly, "Get some rest kid," he murmured.

I nodded faintly and waved goodbye to him, shutting the door gently behind me. Stripping off my clothes I shoved them into a red bag and carefully set them outside the door, knowing they would be taken and washed.

It was a recent development we had set up within the building, but it was incredibly helpful. Filling my washbasin, I quickly cleaned off and then dressed in a pair of underwear and a ratty tshirt that hung to my hips, breathing a sigh of relief as I pulled my hair out of its braid.

Flopping down on my bed I buried my face in the pillows and within moments was drowsy, my exhaustion hitting me like a brick.

* * *

Staring out at the city streets I frowned softly, watching as more bodies were loaded onto wagons and taken out of the city to be buried or burned. The medicine was working on those who were newly sickened by the disease, but those who had been ill the longest were dying.

Our city was dying.

The destiny of the Republic hung by a thread and it seemed that thread was ready to be cut by the all too eager hands of the Fates.

The sun set slowly, painting the sky a bloody red and I sighed, turning back to tend to the ill militia lying in their cots. Wiping sweat off a man's brow I wrung out a cloth and laid the cool fabric against his forehead, checking his IV to make sure he was getting enough meds.

Moving slowly through the rows of beds I worked with relentless motion, cleaning sheets, checking medicine, and wiping away fluids. The entire time my mind was consumed with worry for Bass, the men and women lying in the beds beneath my hands, and for our city.

When Miles had woken me after my nap I had immediately gone to check on Bass, my stomach in knots at the thought of what could have happened to him while I slept. As I watched him sleep, my eyes burned with unshed tears.

His face was filled with a healthy pallor for the first time in days and his breathing finally seemed even and restful. When I laid my hand against his skin, it felt cool, unlike days previous when he had felt like he had a raging fire just beneath his skin.

The doctor finally seemed optimistic and had told me that he thought Bass was going to make it, though his body had lost a significant amount of weight that he would need to start gaining back immediately.

I was all too happy to help with that mission, if it meant that I got more time with Bass. The fear that had gripped me during his illness had been resolute and unyielding, torturing me with nightmares of Bass's funeral, of a life without him.

Slowly I walked to Bass's room, carrying a bowl of soup and a small chunk of bread for him to try and eat. The doctor had insisted that we try to get solid food into his body so that he could begin to gain weight and have food fueling his immune system.

Sitting down beside his bed I smiled softly when I saw that he was awake, and though he looked sleepy, he smiled back happily. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he whispered, licking his lips to wet them, an action I normally would have found sexy, but given his current condition I cringed inwardly at how dry and worn they looked.

I smiled faintly, "Mmm, I doubt it," I murmured, swiping a hand across my sweaty brow and grimacing. Pushing my sweaty hair back from my face I quickly lifted the bowl of soup and held out a spoonful to him, smiling faintly.

"You're gorgeous," he murmured, reaching out to stroke my cheek gently. His eyes shown with affection and his fingers were weak against my face, trembling softly, but I could see the strength in his eyes and it made my throat tight with emotion.

Blinking rapidly I looked down at the spoonful of soup resting in the bowl and took a deep breath before lifting it up and smiling softly at Bass, "Thank you Bass. Now eat," I commanded gently, guiding the spoon to his lips.

He smiled faintly and opened his lips obligingly, making a soft noise of appreciation as he chewed the noodles and chicken. As he ate slowly I ripped a piece of bread off and dunked it into the broth, soaking up the savory flavor before holding it out to him to eat.

Bass sighed and opened his mouth to take the bite, chewing slowly for a moment before speaking carefully around his chewing, "This is really demeaning, you know that, don't you?" he murmured.

I snorted and leaned in to brush his hair back off his forehead, smiling wryly, "I don't know what you mean, I'm literally playing nurse to you, isn't that every man's wet dream?" I teased softly, my voice light with barely concealed laughter.

Bass laughed as he swallowed, his eyes sparkling. "Only if I can play doctor with you," he whispered back, his hand sliding from the mattress to rest on my knee, squeezing it softly, his eyes steadily on mine.

I smirked and held out another spoonful of soup to him, "Here, eat up, _doctor._ You need your strength if you're going to get better," I murmured, my voice dry.

Bass ate slowly, seeming to savor the food, and slowly, more color returned to his face, giving him a healthy pallor. By the time the bowl was empty and the bread was gone Bass once again looked exhausted, collapsing back against the pillows, his chest rising and falling quickly.

I set the bowl aside and gently fluffed his pillow before pulling his blankets up to his chest, making sure he was covered. I longed to kiss him, but was worried that he might be too fragile to put at such risk.

Instead I ran my fingers through his hair once more, trailing my fingers down his jaw and stroked his cheek with my thumb gently for a moment before sighing and pulling away. "Sweet dreams Bass, I'll see you tomorrow," I whispered as he fell asleep.

A faint smile formed on his full lips. "Sweet…dreams…nurse," he sighed.

"Smart ass," I mumbled softly, smirking at him before turning and leaving him to rest. I hadn't even noticed the stars that had come out, hadn't noticed the silence that had fallen in the building, or the fact that the ceaseless movement had finally stilled.

It was only when I pushed open my bedroom door and sank down on my mattress and stared out the window that I realized how late it was, the sky was no longer fully black, it was starting to turn steel grey, the shades of the world before dawn, and I suddenly found it almost impossible to keep my eyes open.

Yawning so wide that I thought my jaw would crack; I toed my boots off and stripped my sweaty clothes off, wrinkling my nose at how odorous I was, how sticky my skin felt. I quickly scrubbed down and pulled on a pair of clean underwear and a tank top, feeling more refreshed as I went to crawl into my bed.

As I stared up at the ceiling, it occurred to me how empty my bed felt without Bass beside me.

* * *

Sighing contentedly I rolled over in bed, stretching my sore, weary limbs and nuzzled my face into the pillows, breathing in the soft scent of the lavender satchels that kept my bed smelling fresh.

Sunlight flowed in through my curtains, warming my face, making me sleepy. Knowing that Bass was resting and healing made it easier to relax into the covers and close my eyes again, breathing a soft sigh of contentment.

Loud knocks at the door startled me awake an unknown amount of time later, setting my heart to pounding as I bolted upright in bed.

The sun spilled across the floor in such a way that I knew it had to be around noon, and I was amazed that I had slept so late.

The knocking at the door continued and I quickly threw back the covers, rummaging through my drawers for a pair of shorts, "Hold on!" I called as I hopped on one foot, pulling them over my legs.

A moment later I threw the door open and frowned at Miles, "What the hell?" I demanded, annoyed to have been woken from my first full night's sleep in more than a week. I glared at him, hands on my hips, sighing in exasperation, until his expression began to sink into my brain and my stomach rolled with worry.

"Oh god…oh god, is Bass okay?" I gasped, reaching out to grab his arm, my fingers digging into his skin. Miles sighed and shook his head, reaching out to unwind my fingers from his arm.

"He's fine, he ate twice already. That's not the problem." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled envelope with my name on it, handing it over solemnly, his brow furrowed. I snatched the letter away with a relieved sigh, my stomach still in knots, and slid a finger beneath the flap.

Sliding the letter out I winced as a pile of ashes slid from within the envelope and fluttered to the floor. Memories from my childhood of anthrax scares made me nervous to continue handling the letter, but I took a soft breath and slid it open, reading quickly.

My fingers clenched into a fist as I finished reading and I lifted my chin to look up at Miles, anger blazing within me. "You saw who delivered this?" I demanded.

He nodded. "Plains Nation." He rubbed the ash between his fingers, "Is it what I think?" he asked tiredly.

"They burned our treaty. Because of what happened to Dale. If our people cross into their territories they'll be killed on sight. They've put a bounty on Natasha and me, and have allied with Canadian forces." I grimaced; we were well and truly fucked.

I sighed and tossed the letter in the trash, "We need to contact Georgia. If they plan on attacking, we'll need help fighting them off."

Miles shook his head, "We can't reveal how weak we are. We need to start drafting more people into the militia," he murmured, his thick brows knitting together in frustration.

I shook my head, "With what citizenry? People here in the city and surrounding area are either dead, dying or too sick to serve."

Miles lifted his chin and stared at me steadily and I immediately started shaking my head at the look in his eye, "No, whatever it is you want me to do, the answer is no, Miles."

He heaved a sigh and ran a hand over the back of his neck, "Come on Becca, the outlying regions haven't contributed their share of people for the militia. We need more!" he insisted.

"And it's that way so they don't rebel! I told them they wouldn't have to for a year so they would contribute grain, vegetables, meat! Things we need to survive here in the city!" I cried, frustrated. Biting my lip, I took a deep breath and stepped back, tugging his arm to pull him into my room so we weren't shouting at each other in the doorway where anyone could overhear.

Shutting the door softly I sighed and shook my head, "I can get you contributions from New England, Pittsburgh, Virginia, Maryland, and maybe, _maybe_ , North Carolina. But it's going to take some time. I'll send messengers to all of them, and I'll start with North Carolina. They'll be the hardest to get. Okay?" I demanded.

I don't think I had ever seen Miles look as relieved as he had in that moment. "Thank you Becca," he murmured, turning towards the door.

"Oh, you're not getting all this for free," I replied, smirking faintly as he paused and turned, resignation lining his face.

"What do you want?" he asked softly.

"A vacation, ideally. Since that's not going to happen, I want a few days with Bass, no interruptions, when I get back. I'll take the heat and tell him I have to leave to handle this, but you're coming with me, got it?" I asked softly, my voice dangerous.

Miles regarded me for a moment and then, completely surprising me, hugged me. "I'm sorry kid. I know this isn't easy or fair." He squeezed my shoulders tightly and to my further surprise, tears formed in my eyes.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and took a deep breath, "Thanks Miles," I whispered. He nodded and gave me another squeeze before stepping back, his face back into its familiar squinty smile.

As he opened my door he smirked and pointed at my tank top, "Wonder Woman, huh?" he asked wryly.

I grinned and lifted an arm, flexing my bicep, "Don't forget it!" I called as he laughed and turned away, shaking his head. Shutting the door behind him I quickly decided to get dressed and go see Bass.

If I was going to be leaving again, I wanted to spend as much time together as possible.

* * *

"Leaving me again so soon?" Bass murmured softly as I helped him to his feet, my arm wrapped tightly around his waist, leveraging his still substantial weight across the room slowly. His voice may have been soft, but his tone screamed at me; _Don't go._

I sighed softly and adjusted my grip on his hips, tilting my chin up to glance at him, startled realization hitting me that he was taller than me; he had seemed so small in his bed, the illness having stripped all excess fat off his body, taken his strength and his vitality.

We walked slowly down the hallway to the small portico off of Bass's office, the corridors empty and quiet. "I go where the Republic needs me, Mr. President," I murmured wryly, glancing up at him with a sly smile.

He smiled tiredly down at me, his eyes a paler blue than I had ever seen them before. The circles beneath his eyes looked as though he had been beaten, and his skin looked pale from exertion. It frightened me to see a man who had always been so strong look so weak, to not be the strength I could rely upon when I needed it.

I thanked God that Miles hadn't gotten sick, and that he was staying behind to make sure Bass continued to recover. A knot of worry lodged in my stomach at the thought of something happening to either of them while I was gone, and I dragged Bass a little faster out onto the porch to situate him in a large wicker chair.

Bass panted softly and lifted a brow, "Eager to get me alone, huh?" he teased, tugging on my hand to pull me down into the chair so that I landed softly in his lap. I quickly adjusted my weight on him and hung my legs over the side of the chair, wrapping my arms around his neck, smiling faintly at him.

"I'm always happy to get you alone," I murmured, running my fingers up the base of his neck, tracing the firm muscles there to the soft curls at the nape of his neck, curling my fingers into them and dragging them back out gently.

His eyes drifted closed with a sigh of contentment and a look of pleasure suffused his face as I continued the action, smiling sadly. I loved him when he was like this, with me, quiet and thoughtful, gentle.

I admired his warrior moments as well, his bright, fiery speeches and his deadly aim, but this was the man I had first fallen in love with. The man who would sit and read with me, studying statecraft, reading Harry Potter and debating the relative merits of Snape.

I smiled softly and laid my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. "Trust me, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and make sure you get stronger," I whispered, running my fingers along his arm.

He chuckled softly, "You already saved me from dying, I think I can handle the rest," he murmured, kissing my temple softly.

Sighing deeply I opened my eyes and tilted my chin to kiss him, surprising him with my firmness as I wound my fingers through his hair, pulling him tightly to me. His palms flattened against my back, pushing me up, his mouth searching against mine with a soft groan of pleasure.

His body was firm against mine, despite his weight loss, and I ached for more, but rationality wormed its way into the center of my brain and I pulled away slowly, breathing heavily. Bass cupped my cheek and breathed shakily, "Be. Fucking. Careful." he whispered, his eyes blazing with emotion.

I nodded, my throat thick, and I kissed him softly once more, quickly. "Thank you for not dying," I whispered. I traced my thumb over his cheek, slowly moving down to his full bottom lip, my eyes focused on his face intently, our gazes burning into each other.

I choked on my words, not sure if I could get them out. My mouth opened and closed like a fish and Bass smirked, "Cat got your tongue?" he whispered, lifting a brow.

I laughed softly, closing my eyes as I shook my head, "No, sorry. It's just…this is harder than I thought it would be," I murmured.

I felt him tense against me and I knew he thought that what I had to say was going to be terrible. Quickly opening my eyes I cupped his cheek, my gaze solemn as I stared into his eyes. "I love you Bass. I want you to know that before I leave again, because things are changing so rapidly, and I…I almost lost you," I whispered.

I watched as his eyes widened in shock for a moment, then flooded with relief, joy, and pleasure. His hands on me tightened again and his lips captured mine for a brief, joyful kiss before he murmured, "I love you too," in my ear, his breath warm on my skin.

Relief shot through me; I had been so worried that I would lay myself bare before him and he would reject me. My breath whooshed out of me in a shaky burst and Bass smiled softly, "Did you think I didn't love you?" he asked gently, incredulously.

I shrugged nervously, "I didn't know what to think. I didn't know if you _could_ love me after everything you lost." I looked into his eyes and decided to be honest, "I've loved you a long time Bass. Shelley knew…" I swallowed uncomfortably and continued, "She knew and she wanted you to be happy. But I couldn't step on her memory, or your daughter's, so I didn't say or do anything, for so long. And I wish I had."

He stared at me, something deep and strong in his eyes, his jaw tight as he struggled to control his emotions, tears threatening in his eyes at the memory of his long deceased daughter and wife. I stroked his cheek and swallowed hard when his tears finally fell, soaking into my skin.

He struggled for breath for a few minutes, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to compose himself, and I said nothing, simply stroking his hair and his cheek, assuring him I was here. When his eyes cleared he took a deep breath and smiled shakily at me, "I think I'd be dead without you," he whispered.

Shaking his head at my soft protest he held up a finger and I let him continue, "I would have killed myself after they died Becca. I thought about it, and if you hadn't stayed with me and kept me going, giving me reason to live, I would have done it. You've given me a reason to keep going every day, even when the days seem dark."

His lips shook as he smiled at me and he brushed a strand of hair from my face, leaning in to kiss me softly. Pulling away he gazed at me seriously, "I expect you to come home in one piece, you hear me?" he murmured.

I nodded and tugged on the hair at the base of his neck gently, "And I expect you to still be alive when I come home, you hear _me?_ " I replied. He nodded and I sighed softly, happily. Leaning my head back against his shoulder I closed my eyes and breathed out softly, enjoying the cool breeze that blew across the porch, cooling our entwined bodies.

Why couldn't it always be like this?

It felt like hours passed as we sat there together, simply breathing each other in, our lips meeting occasionally, our hearts beating in unison. A knock at the doorway roused me from a light doze and I lifted my head from Bass's shoulder to find Natasha standing in the doorway, a regretful smile on her face.

"I'm sorry Ambassador, but it's time," she murmured.

I nodded and unwound myself from Bass slowly, unwillingly, and stood. Leaning down, I braced my hands on the arms of the chair and stared him firmly in the eye, "You are not allowed to go haring off to do _anything_ until you gain at least ten pounds. If I find out that you made yourself worse, so help me God, I will come back here and kick your ass," I whispered sharply.

He smirked faintly and leaned in towards me, his long fingers wrapping around my wrists, "I love you too," he whispered back before leaning up and kissing me firmly. I smirked against his lips and pulled away after a moment, our fingers trailing over each other as I turned to face Natasha.

I smiled softly at her as we walked down the hallway to the main entrance and loped lightly down the stairs to where my entourage was waiting. Ten highly trained female guards stood next to a wagon loaded with provisions for our trip, their bodies laden with weapons, muscles rippling in the afternoon sun.

Beda pranced proudly in the sun, neighing when she saw me, Natasha's horse prancing next to her. We mounted quickly and a few moments later our guard mounted up, following us through the streets and out the city.

I looked back over my shoulder at the fading skyline and exhaled sharply, praying that all would remain well while I was gone.

* * *

The heat had finally broken and it was pleasantly warm sitting out on the porch, the breeze blowing over my skin, the sun on my face for the first time in over a week. My arms felt empty without Becca in them, and my heart ached at the idea of her going off without me once again.

She had been back for only a short moment and in that time she and Miles had saved not just my life, but thousands of lives within the city. I felt her absence so acutely it was like a dagger to the heart, making it hard to breath.

I hadn't realized that it could hurt to watch someone you love walk away, even knowing they were coming back. I hadn't known that I could forget to breath when I looked in her eyes and saw the depth of pain and love there, and felt it reflected in my own heart, knowing how deeply I would be hurt if something happened to her.

The breeze blew harder and I shivered, wishing for a jacket or a blanket. Footsteps behind me alerted me to a presence moments before a hand landed on my shoulder. "How're you doing man?" Miles murmured as I stared out at the wilted flowers.

I snorted softly and shrugged, "Fine, just stayin alive man," I muttered.

He nodded and leaned against the railing in front of me, arms crossed over his torso, his rangy body narrower after the stressful week we had all been through. He had accompanied Becca when she told me she would be leaving again, but had carefully given us space afterwards.

"She's gonna be fine, you know that, right?" he murmured to me, casting a side glance my way.

I nodded slowly, accepting his words, but worry knotted me up, tying me in binds so tight I felt like I couldn't move. There were so many dangerous places in our still forming Republic, and we needed Becca for so much more after this.

I needed her.

We sat in silence as the breeze blew, both of us contemplating our missing friend, love, Ambassador, our Becca.

* * *

_**AN: Hello darlings! I thought I would end on a note from Bass, since we haven't heard from him since the beginning! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, please review, and thank you for reading!** _


	18. Trenton Campaign

**October 12** **th** **, 2016**

Nearly six weeks after I had left home I was sore, tired, and desperately missing Bass. My team and I had been in Parris Island for two of the six weeks, convincing the remaining military leaders in the area that they should not only align with the Republic, but that they should immediately come to our aid in defense of the treaty against the Plains Nations.

After that we had traveled to North Carolina to both Fort Bragg and Cherry Point, rounding up support in both locations before we would be able to move on to the locations in the north of the Republic.

To say that our interactions with the military in each city had been difficult would be a drastic understatement. Many of the men who had survived were tough bastards and few of them were the type who liked taking orders from women.

Despite the fact that they lived in the Republic, and had for years now, they still saw themselves as citizens of the United States of America. I couldn't say I blamed them, I had grown up in the United States, gotten my education so I could be a politician for my country and now I was using it to try and forge something new, something that was no longer the USA.

It was a tough pill to swallow, for all of us.

I had never that I would be part of something that killed so many people, and yet here I was, growing colder to the death, more used to it every day, more used to the incredibly draining decisions that I had to make for everyone around me.

Maggie's words haunted me constantly, urging me to fight for something better, always.

As we rode north through Maryland I shivered in the cold air, burying my nose in my scarf as the bitter air whipped through the tree branches. It was only the first few weeks of October, and a cold front was already moving in it seemed—winter was well on its way to starting early.

We were heading for Fort Detrick after a long week of travel from North Carolina, and my head was pounding from a cold that I had somehow picked up during one of our meetings with the military leaders.

I frowned, grumbling softly at the memory of one of the Captains from Cherry Point coughing and sneezing during the meeting, his seat next to mine. The man had shown barely concealed contempt for our mission, and especially me, his words biting and harsh, and I had hardly been able to bite back a nasty response every time he spoke.

If we hadn't needed his men and women to fight in our militia I would have been tempted to verbally bitch slap the man, but as it was, we needed his help. Sighing, I nudged Beda faster and headed for the looming buildings ahead that compromised the outskirts of Frederick, Maryland.

The communities surrounding Fort Detrick had fled and then come back to the Fort, the survivors pulling together to form a community within its walls that had grown and thrived within the past few months.

Now I was riding in at the head of a growing militia-nearly a thousand strong, and would hopefully be leaving with more. I knew these military leaders were old guard and didn't like answering to me, but when it came down to it, the need to serve was in their blood, and they weren't about to let their country devolve into madness.

That's what I was relying on anyway.

* * *

Wrapping my blanket tighter around my shoulders I leaned toward the fire, watching as the militia moved around me in smooth efficiency, setting up camp and hobbling horses, the smell of cooking food filling the air. Natasha strode through camp with three other women, making sure that things were laid out in an organized, defensible pattern that would leave us able to decamp at a moment's notice and still be able to fight if necessary.

We were only five miles from the Fort, but I had wanted to make camp here and give our people time to rest, the past three days had been nothing but cold, wintery air and rain bursts that had chilled everyone to the bone. It was a slightly warmer day today than yesterday, and it only being mid morning, I had plans to send a messenger to the Fort to set up a meeting for the next day.

Our current encampment provided quite a bit of shelter from the wind; the trees ringing the large public park we had stopped in made an excellent wind break, even if they provided cover for anyone who might try to sneak up on us.

Natasha was already ordering teams out to scout the woods however, and I knew within the hour people would be stationed on a rotating watch that would last until we left—no matter how many days we stayed.

Turning into my tent I shivered as I sat at my small table, pulling out my writing kit so I could compose a message for the General in command of the Fort. I wrote quickly but thoughtfully, knowing that these men and women had most likely heard of the plague that had affected us, and may have even received word of Miles's mission to the NIH to retrieve the cure.

When I had finally finished the letter I folded it carefully and sealed the envelope before carrying it out to my messenger pool, camped close to my own tent for efficiency. I watched as one of the young men in the messenger pool rode off, carrying the letter to the Fort, two militia members flanking him.

There was no reason for the Fort to be violent or aggressive, but that didn't mean that there weren't rebels or citizens with anti-Republic sentiments that wouldn't hesitate to harm our people on the roads. Every precaution was one that came from a hard learned lesson, and we actively tried to prevent further harm befalling our people as we travelled.

I caught Natasha's eye and lifted my chin, jerking my head towards my tent as I lifted a hand and held up a closed fist, tapping it against my chin—our signal to gather my private security force for a meeting.

She nodded and a smile flashed over her face before she turned and began winding through the crowds of people, gathering my people. I turned back into my tent and began assembling things for the meeting.

A few minutes later when the women began filing in I had a boiling teapot, warmed flatbread and dried apples ready for consumption. The women murmured their thanks as they settled into the chairs and on my cot—I didn't have enough seating for the 25 of us, but we made do.

The guard had grown since we had left the city, with more recruits filling the ranks of the militia Natasha was able to have her pick of women who were suitable for our purposes, and as such, had found women who were not only physically capable, but intelligent, deft, and most important, loyal.

I sipped my cup of tea and smiled at the women around me before beginning.

"How is everyone feeling?" I asked softly, looking carefully at all of them, inspecting them for signs of injury or illness.

The women shook their heads and murmured words of assurance—they were fine.

"They're all well Ambassador, though I don't think the same can be said about you," Natasha murmured with a wry smirk as I began to cough, my shoulders shaking from the force of the fit.

I shook my head and tried to catch my breath, sipping on my tea. "I-I'm fine, it's just a cough. If that Captain had covered his damn mouth like any normal human being, I wouldn't be sick" I gripped, feeling my brows furrow in annoyance.

Natasha grinned outright and a few of the women laughed, nodding. "Even my kid knows—knew better than that," one of the women said, shaking her head ruefully, her words barely stumbling as she corrected herself.

It was the moments like these that reminded me forcefully just what people had lost when the power had gone out. The woman was probably in her early thirties and had lost her kid…probably her spouse too. Smiling grimly I sipped on my tea and shook my head, "Well, there's no accounting for manners anymore I guess," I murmured.

The women nodded and munched on their food, sipping their tea, chattering amongst themselves for a moment before I cleared my throat, giving them a brief smile.

"Well, we're likely going to be meeting with the leadership here tomorrow morning, should they accept my terms. I'd like half of you to come, and the others to continue training our newest recruits. We need to make sure that they're ready for deployment. I want to be out of here in no more than two days and split the majority of our force between Jersey and Maine. Neither is fully secured and they'll need the help before winter turns nasty, got it?" I asked firmly, eyeing everyone.

The group nodded and I sighed, running a hand over my face, feeling weariness creeping up on me. Truth be told, this cold was sucking the energy from me, and continuous travel on top of long nights of negotiating, arguing, and headaches were leaving me road weary.

"You should rest ma'am," one of the women commented, nodding to the other women as she stood. The rest followed and filed out of the tent, carrying their cups of tea with them, leaving just Natasha and I in the cold air inside the tent.

She smiled at me, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "You really should rest ma'am," she murmured.

"Ma'am?" I replied incredulously, my brow lifting.

"Sorry; Becca." She smiled, "But she was right, you need rest. You've worked on reports till midnight at least for the past three nights and been up at dawn with us to practice your combat skills—on top of a cold. As the commander of your personal security, I'm ordering you to rest," she replied firmly, giving me an arch look.

There were times when I would have argued with her, just for the sport of it. Today was not one of those times. Nodding I waved a hand at her, brushing her arm, "Get out of here. I'm going to lie down and nap, I promise," I murmured tiredly.

Nodding, she smiled briefly at me before stepping outside, and a moment later I heard her voice murmuring—most likely ensuring my guard was in place before she went on to train the newest members of our militia.

Shaking my head I sank down on my cot and kicked off my boots, wrapping my jacket around me as I pulled the blankets up around me, my eyes sliding shut. Burrowing into the pillow and blankets I hummed in contentment, warmth spreading through my limbs.

* * *

The next two days passed quickly as our negotiations went smoothly, the General in command of the Fort being a more agreeable sort than the last few men I had had the pleasure of meeting with. As we pulled up stakes and rolled onwards for Virginia, I sighed heavily and coughed, my cold still pressing me down and making my bones ache.

The only real remedy these days was tea, and whatever medicine could be scrounged together. Our medical supplies were running low as it was and I wasn't about to start wasting them on my simple head cold, not when things like cholera were cropping up.

We were swinging by the NIH on our way to Virginia in an effort to bolster our supplies, and when the remainder of the militia parted ways with us, a small force would be heading back to Philly to deliver the supplies.

Our messengers had been rotating on runs back to the Capitol in order to keep Miles and Bass informed, but it was slow going. Every time I wrote a letter and watched a messenger ride out to deliver it I longed for the days of texting and emailing, when communication was no slower than how fast your fingers could press _send._

It was a two day ride to the NIH, and from there it was another day's ride to Quantico. After that we would be riding to Pittsburgh and New England, making sure that any recruits we had spoken to on our pacification visits would now be joining us.

Sighing, I pulled my gloves on as a sharp wind blew; the further north we rode the colder it was going to get and I really, _really,_ disliked the cold…especially without someone to cuddle up with at night.

Smirking, I nudged Beda forward, eager to get this mission over with.

* * *

**November 24** **th** **, 2016**

"Fuck! When did it start getting so cold?" I griped, shivering beneath a heavy wool blanket, my skin damp and icy. Our camp had been snowed in for two weeks now after an unexpectedly large snow storm had passed through, cutting us off from our destination—Brunswick Landing.

The navy base had closed officially in 2011, but after the power had gone out, people had taken refuge there and formed a community of nearly five thousand, farming, hunting, and maintaining a society.

Natasha shook her head, her lips blue, "I told you going out while the storm was still going on was a bad idea," she muttered, sounding annoyed.

I sighed heavily, settling my feet against the hot brick we had pulled from the coals a few minutes earlier and wrapped in a blanket so we could prevent frostbite after being out in the snow and freezing winds.

"Yes, well, admittedly, not _all_ of my ideas are good ones. No one is perfect," I muttered, closing my eyes as heat seeped into my bones.

"Mmmhmmm," she hummed sarcastically, shoving her feet against mine on the brick. I smirked and moved mine aside slightly so we could share, leaning back against the wall of the school we had holed up in, the shivers running over my body subsiding slowly.

The smell of cooking food wafted through the school, teasing my empty stomach with the delicious scent of roasting meat and vegetables. Our people had scrounged and gathered, hunting until we had shot and killed a turkey, dressing it and placing it over the fire to roast slowly for a Thanksgiving dinner.

The smell of it was driving me slowly crazy, knowing that it wouldn't be done for hours when my body was hungry and demanding to eat now. My breathing slowed as my body heated back up, my muscles unclenching and a moment later my head fell onto Nat's shoulder.

"Everyone's been pulled in, yea?" I murmured softly.

"Yea, they're all safe, everyone is resting."

I nodded and sighed, haziness flooding through me, my brain slowing and my thoughts slipping away as I began to fall into sleep.

* * *

"What are you grateful for Nat?" I asked, taking a sip of wine from my chipped mug, smiling at her over the rim. Our group was gathered together to eat our Thanksgiving dinner, and we were slowly going around the circle, revealing what we were grateful for.

Nat sighed and stared down at her cup of wine for a moment before speaking, "I'm grateful to be here with all of you, my family." She smiled faintly, "I'm grateful that my husband is gone and I don't have to have bad sex anymore," she murmured wryly.

A laugh burst out of my chest, quickly followed by others in the group and soon enough we were sharing stories of relationships and dirty stories that brought blushes to cheeks and laughter to the air.

Plates were filled with delicious food and glasses were filled with wine many times before the evening was over. I leaned back against the wall and watched as my friends laughed and shared their lives, loves and stories, the light of the fires flickering on faces.

Sighing, I stood and waved goodnight to the groups and walked unsteadily back to the principal's office where I was staying, collapsing onto my cot with a grunt. Rolling the covers on top of me I closed my eyes and groaned as the lights behind my eyes swirled unpleasantly.

We were stuck in this hellhole until this latest storm passed and we could dig our way out and make it to the base. We still had to secure more men and women for the militia before making our way back to Philly.

The last I had heard from our messengers the city was recovering well after the cholera outbreak, but the Jersey front was opening up again. Miles and Bass were on their way there with reinforcements to make sure that the rebellion was finally put down; fifteen hundred militia at their back.

The fighting had grown more intense on the front from all the reports that I was hearing, and I was worried that something was going to happen to the men I loved. Rubbing a hand over my face I sighed and rolled over slowly, peering up at the dim stars through the iced over windows.

My eyes slid shut slowly.

_"_ _Becca, you need to put on your earmuffs before you go out to play in the snow."_

_I peered up at my mom, huffing as I struggled with my boots. She lifted a brow and propped her hands on her hips, giving me a serious look. There was no arguing with her when she looked like that, so I nodded and struggled to my feet, taking the earmuffs she was holding out to me._

_"_ _You need to come back in when it gets dark. Don't make me come find you," she ordered._

_I nodded and danced in place, eager to get outside and play with my brother. A smile crossed her lips and she opened the front door, pushing my shoulders gently until I stepped outside._

_With a soft giggle I ran outside after my brother and began pelting him with snowballs, shrieking when he started throwing them back._

_The sun faded slowly as we built snowmen and played with our friends, slowly growing tired and hungry. Eventually the sky grew dark and we trudged back to the house, teeth chattering. Mom opened the door, warm white light spilling out onto the porch as she greeted us with a smile and two mugs of hot cocoa._

_We eagerly shed our layers and reached for the mugs, burning our tongues on the cocoa, but refusing to slow down our gulps. Mother sat with us on the couch, her arms wrapped around us, smiling as we told her about our adventures, her laughter bright and warm._

_She pressed kisses to our heads and I snuggled into her, sighing happily._

* * *

Beda struggled through the snow, her hooves crunching through the crust as she carried me forward. After the latest storm had passed we had immediately begun clearing the snow and ice, wrapping the horse's legs in blankets so that they could be used to break the ground up ahead of us and make it easier going.

Still, it had taken two full days to clear a path from the school to the road, and we were just now getting to the base, with no idea if anyone was alive inside. The storm had dropped over eight inches of snow and a half inch of ice on top of that, making it an extremely precarious situation to be travelling in, let alone trying to survive in.

As we approached the gates there was a loud commotion from inside and moments later they began to swing out, revealing a group of armed soldiers waiting for us. I waved and urged Beda forward, keeping my gaze focused on the tall older woman in the middle.

The single star on each side of her lapels marked her as a Brigadier General, and the woman in command of the base, the person I wanted to talk to. Lifting my hand in greeting I pulled Beda to a halt five feet away and leaned forward, smiling in greeting.

"General, thank you for opening your gates to us. Would you do us the honor of receiving us inside to discuss your participation in the militia and the Republic?" I asked, smiling politely.

The woman studied me for a moment before nodding, her lips pursing together in a thin smile, "Please come in," she called, waving a hand to our group. I nodded and glanced back at my followers, waving a hand briskly before urging Beda forward through the gates and into the compound.

A few minutes later we were all through the gates and they were closed firmly, metal bars sliding into place to secure them. Dismounting quickly I held onto her reins as I stepped forward squaring my shoulders as I met the General's eyes.

"Ambassador and Policy Advisor for the Republic, Becca Flynn." I held my hand out to the General and smiled faintly when she took it, gripping firmly.

"Brigadier General Holly Moore. Welcome to Brunswick Landing," she murmured. "Please allow my men and women to stable your horses so your militia can get out of the cold," she offered, holding out her hand towards a man standing beside her.

I held onto Beda's reins for a moment before nodding slowly, "Please take good care of her, she's got a lot of attitude," I told the man with a soft laugh, "Sort of like her owner," I joked. A gentle laugh rippled through my friends and my cheeks flushed as I joined them; it was an inside joke, but it was true enough.

The man smirked and nodded, "You sound like my wife," he joked as he reached for Beda's reins. I handed the reins over and patted her neck, watching as they walked away for a moment.

I smiled faintly at the general and pointed to the compound and buildings ahead of us, "Should we proceed?" I asked.

She nodded, "Follow me," she murmured, turning to lead us further into the large compound. Holly pushed open the door to a large building marked as CENT-COMM, and as we walked down the hallways I shivered, amazed to feel how warm the building was.

"How do you keep this place so warm?" I asked softly, peering around curiously.

Holly smiled warmly at me, "We built fireplaces and stoves in each building, placing them strategically so that they heat the buildings even in the worst of weather."

My brows lifted, "Smart," I murmured in admiration. We needed to do this in Philly, and in all the places that people were settling to make sure that they survived these hellish winters. We walked into a medium sized room filled with computer and tv screens, the floor tiered down to a large screen filling one wall.

Holly waved a hand, "This used to be the Central Command Center for this base when Navy operations were underway, now however, it's useless. We hold meetings here when the community needs to discuss something, and I believe for our purposes today, it will serve us well."

I nodded and motioned towards the seats, "Well, then, let's get started," I replied, eager to proceed. Holly nodded and walked to the front of the room, motioning to the two seats arranged on the floor in front of the screen.

Settling in, I unwound my scarf and pulled my hat off, frowning as the static made my hair crackle. Running my fingers through it quickly I leaned forward and smiled at Holly, "Thank you again for welcoming us into your home, we appreciate it, especially after the weather we've been caught up in."

She nodded, "We've just finished digging out here, it's been rough on our food supplies and our houses. Two roofs collapsed under the weight of the snow and ice."

I frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that, was anyone injured? We have a doctor and nurse with us, perhaps we could help," I offered.

Holly shook her head, "Fortunately everyone was fine, but thank you," she replied, smiling tightly. Fine lines appeared at her eyes, her mouth tense, "You've come to request our men and women for the Republic's militia, haven't you?" she asked softly, her voice worried.

I nodded, "I am, but I assure you, we aren't here to take all of your soldiers that protect you. We need to reach an agreement that is mutually beneficial, so do you think we can do that?" I asked softly.

I was acutely aware that both of our people were watching us negotiate this agreement, so everything about this deal had to be compromised on and negotiated in good faith.

"I do. Tell me, how many people do you want from us?" Holly asked lightly, studying me with a firm set to her jaw.

I contemplated for a moment before nodding briskly, "Anyone who might have specialized skills—Marines, Seals, they're of special interest to us. But we'll take police and any other branch of military from the US or foreign military that might be here."

Holly nodded thoughtfully, her almond shaped eyes gazing at me intelligently. "Very well. And what do we get in return?" she asked softly, her eyes narrowing faintly.

I smiled, "In return you become an official part of the Monroe Republic, with all the privileges that entails. For the next year you will be tax exempt, and anyone who joins our militia will receive double pay and rations, along with their families. Also, should you need protection, our men and women will be at your disposal."

I leaned forward and gave her a firm look, "I'd also like to ask you to come to Philadelphia and serve as a Major General in our Militia. No one else I've spoken to has your kind of experience in both combat and intelligence, you're the kind of person we need to help run and expand our militia."

It was a risky proposition, but one I was fairly certain she would accept. Long minutes passed in silence as Holly contemplated my offer, her gaze lifting from my face to scan the small group of people gathered to watch us.

I studied her profile, examining the strength in her face and the small flecks of grey in her black hair, her coppery skin rough from the winter's wind biting at it. She reminded me of my mother in a way, of the way she used to look when I was a child, the strength she used to exhibit, before everything changed.

Holly turned back to me, her eyes lighting with a warm look. She nodded sharply, "I can send fifty people with you without compromising the base. But there's no one here who can take over for me competently. I'm sorry, as much as I would like to come with you, I can't," she murmured regretfully.

I sighed deeply, "I think you'll find that may not be true. Lieutenant General Collins from North Carolina's Cherry Point has travelled with us to take your command, if you would be willing to relinquish it to him. He's happy to assist here; he was among three other generals in Cherry Point sitting on their thumbs, going to waste. We've redistributed them among our own forces, and he's eager for a place to call home. What do you say?" I asked, my stomach twisting nervously.

This was the hardest part of the negotiations; if Holly decided she didn't want to give up control of her base, we could very well end up with the short end of the stick, with less people than we wanted for the militia.

After a long moment of silence she nodded thoughtfully, "Alright, I'll want to meet him first, but I'd say we have a deal," she murmured.

A smile broke out across my face and I lifted a hand to shake Holly's, "Thank you, I really appreciate you working with me on this; I know it's the best thing for both of us."

She nodded and stood, "I believe you, surprisingly. I've met a lot of politicians in my time, and when I heard that some young blood politician for the new Republic was coming to speak with us, I was hesitant, to say the least," she quipped.

I laughed softly and followed her up the steps and out of the room, "Well, I don't blame you, especially with what the Plains Nations have been saying about me," I murmured wryly.

Holly laughed mirthfully and lifted a brow, "I was expecting a female Chuck Norris frankly."

I belted out laughing, "Hardly, I like to think of myself more as Leslie Knope, idealistic, but unafraid to kick some ass when I need to."

Holly grinned at me, "I miss that show, she made me laugh," she murmured.

I nodded, "Me too. I wonder how many fancy stars in Hollywood have survived," I mused contemplatively.

"Probably not too many," she replied with a lift of her brows. She led me to a small cafeteria where the majority of my people had gathered and were eating and talking softly amongst themselves.

A tall well built black man caught my eye and at my nod, stood and walked quickly over to us. He stood ramrod straight, hands tucked behind his back, amber eyes assessing Holly and myself. Holly peered up at him for a moment before nodding, "Lieutenant General, I presume?" she murmured, extending her hand.

He nodded, "Kyle Collins ma'am," he replied, taking her hand firmly.

I clapped them both firmly on the shoulders, "I'll leave you to get to know each other, hmm?" I murmured. They nodded and I smiled faintly, slipping away to sit with my security and enjoy a plate of food.

I watched as Kyle and Holly sat at a table, conversing softly, their faces intense but polite, gradually relaxing as they spoke. I sighed in relief, this deal, and the others I had made on this trip, they would help protect my home, my Republic.

Our long journey home would begin now.

* * *

I peered out the window of Brunswick Landing base and sighed, watching as yet more snow hissed against the windows. We had been working around the clock, shoveling to clear the roads and sidewalks in the compound and the surrounding area in an effort to make it easier for us to leave, but at the rate the snow was falling, it was impossible to keep up, even with everyone in the base helping.

It had been more than a week of near constant snow storms, and wood supplies for the furnaces and fire places were running low. Families were huddling together in the rooms to try and conserve heat, but everyone was feeling the pinch of the cold, blankets and fireplaces notwithstanding.

I sipped on my mug of coffee and shuddered as the heat of it seemed to warm my blood. My fingers clenched on the mug, aching as they were seared by the fiery heat from the coffee.

"Still coming down?"

At the sound of Holly's voice I startled, sloshing coffee over the rim and onto my hand. "Shit!" I hissed, wiping it off quickly onto my jeans.

Holly quickly stepped forward and grabbed my hand, inspecting it, "It doesn't look like a bad burn, you should be okay," she murmured. "I'm sorry for startling you," she sighed with a tired smile.

I shrugged, smiling softly, "Its fine, I was just lost in thought. Why are _you_ still awake?" I asked softly.

She sighed and lifted a shoulder, "Mmm, I've not been sleeping well all week. I'm worried that my people are going to starve if this weather keeps up. It hasn't been this bad in years."

I nodded and looked out the window, "We're trying not to put a strain on your supplies and use our own, but we can't use our own up or we won't have anything left for the trip home."

"I understand, trust me, I'm not blaming you. We have supply stores in the other buildings, but if we start going through them, we won't have enough for the future. It's a lose-lose situation."

"If the snow slows in the morning we'll head out, we can't linger much longer or we'll be snowed in for the winter," I murmured.

Holly nodded, "We should get a crew together and start clearing the roadways if we want to make it out."

I nodded in agreement and turned away from the windows, "Let's go wake some people up then," I sighed.

* * *

We worked through the night; shoveling and using the horses to pull plows until the roads were clear a mile down the road and all through the compound. By the time we were finished the storm had passed and those who were on the work detail had drank nearly a gallon of coffee, exhaustion sinking into all of our bones.

As the sun rose higher in the sky we loaded our wagons with supplies and said our goodbyes quickly, eager to be on the road and out of the path of any more snowstorms that might be heading our way. I smiled over at Holly who had mounted up onto her own horse beside me and a moment later we were riding out through the front gates, the sun shining down on our backs.

We were finally going home.

* * *

**December 23** **rd** **, 2016**

I slid from Beda's back, my legs wobbly from riding for so long, my skin feeling like it was stiff from the cold. I could barely straighten my fingers after clutching the reins so long, and my back felt like it was perpetually curved into the shape of a C.

I led Beda into the barns and began unsaddling and cleaning her, making sure she was dry and warm before ushering her into her stall. I turned and found my personal security militia members doing the same, along with Holly, and smiled faintly, proud of all of them for making it back here.

I walked slowly, achingly back to Independence Hall and bit my lip as I climbed the stairs, making a small hand motion to the militia on guard. Warmth enveloped me as I stepped inside and I groaned in relief.

The furnaces and fireplaces were in full blast, heating the building so that it stood like a glowing beacon against the snow falling outside. I shuddered and strode a little quicker down the hall to my quarters, eager for a hot bath.

I paused and course corrected, heading for Bass's rooms, my feet aching with every step. Knocking on his door a few moments later I waited impatiently for the door to open and frowned when it remained firmly closed.

Suspicion filled me like a dark heavy cloud and I spun away clomping heavy footed down the hall to Miles's rooms, pounding on the door. "Miles! Open up!" I demanded, worry gnawing at me.

His door too, remained shut, despite my repeated knocks.

"Uh, Ambassador? The General and the President aren't here…"

I spun and found one of the militia guards standing behind me with a cautious look on his face. I realized I probably looked like a crazy woman, and tucked my hands behind my back, smiling faintly at the young man.

"Thank you, can you ask the staff to start heating water for a bath for me? I would appreciate your help," I murmured.

He nodded before stepping away, retreating respectfully. I sighed and ran a hand over my face, wondering where the hell Bass and Miles had gone. I trudged slowly back to my room, every bone in my body aching, my very soul seeming to ache.

I was so glad to be home that I wanted to cry, but I couldn't even seem to summon up the energy for that, let alone the energy to be mad at Bass and Miles for being missing. Unlocking the door to my quarters I slumped against the wall and sighed heavily, my eyes sliding shut in relief.

A knock at the door made me jump and open my eyes. I turned and found two of my personal guard carrying buckets of hot water for the bath I had asked for, grins on their faces.

"Shit, sorry ladies, come in," I murmured softly, stepping out of the way so they could walk around me and fill the tub. They nodded and walked quickly over to the tub to fill it, stepping out of the way as three more women filed in and dumped steaming buckets of water in.

I frowned, "How did you guys get the water heated so quickly? I just asked for this," I murmured.

A short curvy blonde, Katie, stepped forward and grinned, "I rode ahead and made sure they had water heating so you could get a hot bath as soon as you got in." She shrugged, "It's our job to make sure you stay alive and healthy, and you looked like you might freeze to death on Beda."

I laughed softly and patted her arm firmly, "I appreciate what you did," I looked around the room at the women, "All of you, thank you," I uttered gratefully. The women nodded and smiled at me before filing out of the room, leaving me to bathe in peace.

I shut the door and quickly stripped, shivering in the cool air. As I slid into the water I bit back a yelp, my half frozen skin tingling painfully. I sank beneath the water and scrubbed at my hair until the ache in my head lessened.

Surfacing, I let out a sigh and leaned my head back against the metal rim of the tub, a smile spreading across my lips as the heat eased away the cold from my limbs.

A knock at the door broke my light doze and a moment later the door cracked open, "Becca?" Nat's voice called softly.

"Come in," I replied with a faint sigh, lifting a hand to wipe across my face. When the water had dripped from my eyes I saw her sitting in a chair beside my tub, an envelope hanging loosely in her fingers.

"What's that?" I asked tiredly.

Her bright eyes met mine and I felt something hit my stomach, already knowing what it was.

Bass and Miles.

She sighed and held it out to me, not saying a word.

My fingers left water marks on the paper where I touched it and when I flipped the letter open, some of the words had blurred. It didn't prevent me from reading the letter Bass had left though.

Or from feeling an aching sense of loss and worry at the words on the page.

_Becca,_

_I'm sorry that we won't get to be together for Christmas, but the reinforcements you've sent are needed in Trenton, where the fighting has grown steadily worse. If Miles and I cannot defeat the rebels there, I fear we will lose the entire Republic. The Trenton Campaign has begun, and it looks like it's going to be bloody. Please guide the Republic; I know yours are the only hands it could possibly remain safe in._

_I will see you soon, I hope._

_I love you._

_Bass_

Miles and Bass were in Trenton, and there was nothing I could do to keep them safe. I had to stay here and make sure the Republic didn't fall to pieces in their absence.

My eyes slid closed and I heard Natasha walk softly away, the door closing behind her. The letter in my hand drifted to the floor, making a soft whispering sound against the hardwood.

I stayed in the tub until the water began to cool, hardly aware of the shivers that had begun to pass over my skin. Worry gnawed at me, the two people I loved the most were in the greatest of danger, and there was little I could do about it.

The Trenton Campaign had begun. 


	19. Merry Christmas

**December 25th, 2016**

Bitter wind whipped through the streets, nipping at exposed flesh, making breath steam in the air and eyes tear. The citizens of Philadelphia were happy to brave the cold though, it was our first official Christmas as a Republic, and I had made the executive decision that the city and the Republic needed a party.

As such a feast had been under preparation since my return. Potatoes were peeled, boiled, and mashed while game was hunted and skinned, seasoned and roasted. Cans of corn and green beans were liberally seasoned until they tasted like they were fresh from the ground. Bread was baked round the clock and the air in the city began to smell like heaven.

We had ten tables laden with food, and as the line stretched for blocks, thousands of hungry mouths eager for food, I began to worry we still didn't have enough. I shoveled venison and beets onto a plate and sent it down the line, smiling at the young woman and her little girl in front of me, eagerly waiting for food.

"Merry Christmas, what's your name?" I asked, the question on repeat. I had already met almost two hundred people, and I had forgotten most.

She gave me a tired smile and hitched the little girl higher on her hip, "Jennifer Mills ma'am," she replied softly, eyeing the plate as it worked its way down the table to be filled before being handed to her.

"What do you do here in the city?" I asked politely. Most people had duties assigned to them, but with a young child she most likely helped with gardening or teaching.

Her face wrinkled in a frown, "I-I don't have a job ma'am," she murmured, flushing, looking away, ashamed.

The plate returned to my hands and I held onto it for a moment, stunned. If she didn't have a job, she couldn't earn food. She and her child would be begging for food, or starving. "What did you do before the power went out?" I asked softly, stepping around the table to hand her the plate, smiling at the little, laughing softly when she hid her face in her mother's neck.

Jennifer held onto the plate like it was a lifeline and bit her lip, "I worked at the IRS. I was an auditor," she explained.

My brows shot up in surprise and a short burst of laughter bubbled out of my chest before I could suppress it. Her face wrinkled in confusion and I lay a hand on her arm, "Jennifer, would you like a job?" I offered, smiling wryly at my own genius.

"I-I don't…what kind of job?" she asked hesitantly.

I grinned, "Running our treasury. I'm handling it now, but I don't have the kind of knowledge you do on taxes and audits, and I could use someone who understands how a government works in that aspect. Do you think that's something you could do?" I asked, watching as her face slowly lit up.

"Y-you're serious?" she whispered, her eyes searching mine, as though she thought this was some sort of trick.

I nodded, "President Monroe and Commanding General Matheson will want to meet you when they return from the Trenton front, but I'm sure they'll have no objections," I murmured, knowing that they wouldn't if I sent them a letter beforehand.

Jennifer's eyes filled and she swallowed hard, "I-yes! Thank you!" she exclaimed softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand firmly, blinking rapidly as her eyes overflowed.

I squeezed her hand back and nodded, "I'll see you after the new year. Report here to Independence Hall and let the guards know that you're here to see me," I paused as I realized she might not know my name, my lips curling in amusement at my own arrogance.

"Tell them you're here to see Rebecca Flynn, the Ambassador and Policy Advisor for the Republic and they'll let you in," I finished, smiling warmly at her.

Jennifer nodded eagerly, "Thank you so much Ms. Flynn, I truly appreciate it," she murmured, her eyes bright with hope. I nodded and watched as she walked away, her shoulders straighter than they had been just a few minutes earlier.

It was amazing what a little hope could do for a person.

Sighing, I turned back to the never ending line of hungry citizens and continued smiling, handing out food and getting to know my people. This was how you built a republic. Not with blood, but with trust and love.

I kept telling myself that as I prayed silently for the two men who had my heart for very different reasons, and were so far from home on Christmas, fighting a bloody war to secure our Republic.

* * *

As the last person filled their plate, I sighed and stepped away from the table, smiling at the volunteers who would clean up the mess.

"Thank you all for sacrificing your Christmas day. I appreciate everything you've given up today to serve your fellow citizens and your Republic. I want you all to know how much it means to me to have spent my Christmas with you," I said, raising my voice so those who stood towards the back could hear.

After a brief round of applause and a few hugs I was able to walk back to Independence Hall and its relative warmth, shivering as I tugged off my gloves. Walking down the hall I paused and reminded myself to turn left instead of right, shaking my head softly, smiling.

Bass had given me his spare key months ago for my birthday, but with things spiraling out of control with the Plains Nation, the cholera outbreak, and now the Trenton Campaign, we hadn't had much time for setting a move in date.

Smirking, I unlocked what was now _our_ suite of rooms and shut the door behind me. Upon my arrival home I had realized that it would be one problem after another, keeping me or Bass busy and away from home, keeping us apart, and if I wanted us to be together, I was going to have to move quickly.

Luckily for me, we lived in a post apocalypse world and my worldly possessions could be fit in two duffle bags and a smaller leather satchel held my work documents that I had in my room at the time. Carrying them to my new quarters had taken five minutes, and dragging the writing desk I was fond of had taken another five.

A few militia members had raised brows or laughed behind their hands, but so far, nothing had been said about the change. Since I was essentially the head of the government and their boss, it wasn't a particularly smart idea to get on my bad side, and they were at least smart enough to understand that.

Kicking off my boots, I nudged them into the corner and hung my jacket on the stand that had already been in the room. It had surprised me to see how neat Bass kept his room, but when I remembered his Marine training, it clicked.

Tugging the large fleece blanket from the foot of the bed, I sat down at my desk and began writing a letter to Bass and Miles jointly, letting them know of my hiring of Jennifer, and the feast, among other details about the Republic they would need to know.

_Dear Miles and Bass,_

_I hope this finds you both alive and well, because if something has happened to either one of you I will break your fucking necks. I hope that you get to have some sort of Christmas where you are, though I know that's unlikely. Here in the Capitol we had a feast prepared for all the citizens and I, along with the militia, handed it out to all the citizens. The line wrapped around four city blocks there were so many people! It took all day to prepare and hand out, but the best part was how happy we made people._

_They were filled with hope that our Republic will remain strong, and so many passed along their words of encouragement for you both and our brave militia at the front with you. Oh! I have hired a Treasurer! She worked for the IRS in the old government and is intelligent and capable; her name is Jennifer Mills, and she will be joining us after the New Years. I expect you both to treat her with respect, and to go to her with issues surrounding finance and expenses. I no longer will hold the keys to the money when you return!_

_Lastly, I have troubling news. During my travels to different military installations, I spoke with all the leaders and they all told me the same thing; we are running out of ammunition. I don't know if more can be made, but we need to look into this immediately. We will discuss this as soon as you return._

_My love to you both!_

_Becca_

Sealing the envelope I stood and shed my blanket, carrying the letter with me as I walked down the halls to the messenger offices, searching for someone to carry the letter to Trenton. The offices were dark; no candles were burning at this hour it seemed.

"Ma'am? Did you need something?" a soft feminine voice asked.

I turned back and saw a strawberry blonde head poking out of one of the offices near the end of the hallway and smiled hesitantly, "I do, but I don't think I know you, do I?" I asked.

The young woman shook her head and stepped out into the hallway, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, "We haven't met yet. I just started before y'all got back. I moved here a few weeks ago," she replied, smiling shyly at me as she held her hand out, "I'm Dee, uh, Deanne, but you can call me Dee," she offered, her porcelain cheeks flushing.

I grinned, "Nice to meet you Dee, where you from?" I asked, noting her southern drawl.

"Tennessee ma'am," she replied promptly.

"Huh, I've never been," I murmured, smiling faintly. I tilted my head to study her, my smile fading, "Why didn't you go to the Georgia Federation?" I asked, suspicion making my eyes narrow.

Her mouth narrowed and she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, "My family an I tried ma'am, but my sister was sick," she murmured, casting her eyes aside. "She had malaria, an they said we couldn' enter the city until she got better…" she hesitated for so long I wasn't sure she was going to continue, when finally she shook her head, "my whole family died from it ma'am, an my daddy made me leave before I got sick an come here."

I stared at her as a sick sensation rumbled through my stomach, "W-when did this happen?" I asked, clearing my throat, " _Where_ did this happen? Was it just your family?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice from being too sharp.

Her gaze lifted up to mine at my tone and her eyes focused, the grief clearing as she realized she had said something important. "I-uh…No, it was our whole town. This August," she murmured, shaking her head.

My hand shot out and gripped her arm, "Can you show me on a map?" I demanded, fear and excitement running through me. Her eyes widened and she nodded nervously.

"W-what about your message ma'am?" she asked, eyes darting down to the letter I still gripped in my free hand.

_Shit…right…_

I released her arm and stepped back, clearing my throat, "Is there another messenger available?" I asked, glancing around at the dark offices.

She shook her head, "Not here, but I know of a few that are in their homes. I can take it to them if you still want to know where my town was?" she replied questioningly.

I stared at her for minute, tossing my options back and forth in my head. "No, I think it's better if you carry it for me Dee," I murmured. I waved a hand, "I have maps in my office, come with me," I said sharply, turning on my heel and walking quickly towards my office, just a few hallways away.

I heard her walking quickly behind me and felt her shoulder bump mine when I stopped abruptly at my office door to unlock it. Her stuttered apology made me smirk; she was probably around my age, and here she was apologizing and calling me "ma'am", like I was somebody important.

As I stepped into my office and looked at all the paperwork that was for running the Republic and the letter in my hand to the two most important men within that Republic, it hit me; I was someone important.

I was a leader.

Shaking my head I bent over my desk and carefully moved papers out of the way, pulling my maps out of the drawer and laid them on the surface, weighing them down. "Show me where on here and I'll mark it," I murmured to Dee.

She stood awkwardly to the side for a moment before coming over and peering at the map in the candlelight, searching for her town on the map of the east coast. A few minutes later she made a soft triumphant noise and her finger landed on the surface of the paper.

" _East Ridge, Tennessee_ ," I murmured, circling it with pencil, frowning softly. "That's as close to the Georgia border as you can get, huh?" I asked, glancing up at her.

"Just about," she murmured, nodding.

"How many people were there in your town in August?" I asked, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper to write a new letter to Bass and Miles. This was something they needed to know. Another disease that cropped up out of nowhere? Fucking suspicious.

Dee thought for a moment and shrugged a shoulder, "I think 500?" she shook her head, "But people came an went, it was a migratory kind of place," she explained.

I nodded, writing down her figures and the details of the town quickly. "And how many people got sick and died?" I asked softly, glancing up at her.

Her fingers dug into her arms as she stared down at the map, "350," she whispered.

The number stunned me. That was 70% of the population. I wrote the information down quickly and shook my head, "I'm sorry Dee, really. We had an outbreak of cholera here, and it killed close to 500 people. We have almost 3,000 people in the city and the surrounding area, so our population didn't take the same kind of devastating hit that yours did, but each loss is terrible, just the same," I murmured.

When I looked up her brow was furrowed and she was looking at me angrily, "I don't understand how you can talk about it so calmly, as though it doesn't bother you," she remonstrated.

Slowly I lowered my pen and leaned my hip against the desk, studying her face. "I'm calm because I lived through watching hundreds of my people die horribly. I lost friends, good people, and I almost lost someone very dear to me because of the outbreak," I replied sharply, biting back Bass's name.

She didn't need to know Bass and my relationship; she just needed to know I gave a shit. I frowned deeply at her, "Trust me Dee, I care deeply about the people of the Republic, and about the people that occupy what used to be America. I want everyone to survive. I want to figure out why two separate but deadly outbreaks of diseases that are practically non-existent in North America suddenly crop up at the exact same time and kill hundreds."

I shook my head, "Don't accuse me of not caring Dee, because that's all I do. I spend every waking moment of my days trying to keep this Republic going, to keep you and everyone else in it alive, safe, and protected."

I turned away and wrote more information to Bass and Miles, my words scrawling in my frustration. Dee remained silent beside me as I wrote, neither of us willing to break the silence. As I leaned back from writing and studied the map again she cleared her throat, "I-uh, heard another outbreak happened here," she pointed to another location on the map, _Springfield, Missouri._

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was Plains Nation territory, and that meant that one of the tribes had been caught in an outbreak after we left. "How many dead?" I asked shortly, turning back to my letter to transcribe what she had told me already.

"I'm not sure, people passing through town told us it was the Spanish flu, and that over 200 people had died, but then other people said it was just the regular flu and only 50 people had died."

I nodded and wrote down both facts. Either way, something odd was happening. Quickly folding up the note I sealed and stamped it before turning and handing her both envelopes, "I need you to carry these to Trenton. If you feel you cannot ride into the front lines of combat, tell me now and I'll dispatch a militia member instead," I murmured seriously.

Dee stared down at the letters, her lips thinning as she contemplated my request. After a moment she nodded, "I can do that ma'am. I'm not great with guns, but I'm fast with knives and I use camouflage to sneak around when I can't get where I need to directly," she informed me.

"Perfect. Pack warmly and take plenty of rations with you," I advised, smiling faintly as she took the letters from me, backing away slowly. Dee nodded and turned out the door, not looking back.

Turning my attention back to the map I studied it for a moment, looking at the three outbreak spots I had circled. Could there be more? And why had they all happened at the same time? Shaking my head I rolled up the map and locked it back in the drawer.

I wasn't going to figure it out tonight, but I did still need a hot bath and something to eat. Locking the office door behind me, I strode down the halls to the kitchens, knowing that even at this hour I would be able to find something to eat.

Leaning against the counter I hummed happily, enjoying a sandwich of cold roast venison, stuffing, gravy, cheese that had been made fresh in town, and wished the whole time that Bass and Miles were there to enjoy this with me.

After enjoying a hot bath I lay in bed, curling Bass's pillow against my chest, inhaling his scent, an ache in my chest. It wasn't even our first Christmas as a trio, but it was as a couple, and we weren't together.

Sighing, I sniffled back the tears that had managed to worm their way into my eyes and shook my head at my melancholia, wherever Bass and Miles were on the Trenton front, they certainly wouldn't be thinking about Christmas, they would be trying to survive.

Exhaling slowly I rolled onto my back and watched the meager light from the moon play across the ceiling, my fingers drumming in time to my heartbeat on the pillow beside me.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night," I whispered joylessly.

* * *

December 27th, 2016

"Dee"

" _Dee"_

"DEE!"

The flap of the tent flew open as the messenger stumbled in, her chest heaving as she looked around, cheeks flushed from running through the cold air.

"Yes President Monroe suh?" she squeaked, her eyes darting over me and then Miles, her flush deepening. A smirk curled my lips at the look on her face as she turned her gaze hastily from Miles and to me, her hands tucked behind her back, unknowingly pushing her chest forward.

I saw Miles turn to look over at the young woman, his eyes flashing with interest and my smirk grew. "I need you to compose another message for B-the Ambassador, can you do that?" I asked sharply, taking a sip of the hot, bitter drink that passed for coffee here on the front.

She nodded and stepped forward eagerly, pulling her writing kit out from behind her back. As she stepped toward the fire near our table she sighed softly and smiled faintly, "Y'all got a nice set up here," she murmured, her gunmetal blue eyes flickering over the interior of the tent before resting briefly on Miles's face once more.

I nodded slowly, "For a shit hole in the middle of a war, it isn't so bad," I scoffed lightly. A flush spread over her cheeks and her fingers dropped the pens she had been pulling out of her kit, sending them scattering to the floor.

"Shit!" she whispered, crouching to retrieve them. To my amusement Miles was at her side a moment later, helping her pick them up, a hesitant smile on his face as he handed her the pens. The girl blushed deeper, if that was possible, clutching them to her chest as she stood straight.

"Why thank ya General Matheson suh, you're too kind," she murmured sweetly, her smile like a ray of sunshine.

I bit back a bark of laughter at the flush that spread up Miles's throat and the awkward smile he gave her in return. "Uh, yea, no problem," he muttered.

Leaning forward I smirked and shook my head, "Right, if you're ready?" I asked, lifting a brow at the young woman. She cleared her throat and nodded, seating herself and looking intently down at the paper.

"Inform the Ambassador that the campaign is nearly finished. The reinforcements have turned the tide for the Republic, and her warning that we are running low on munitions is well timed. We here at the front have noticed this fact, and are doing everything we can to preserve our bullets. Inform her that we have been looking into munitions factories and how we can create more weapons and bullets, but right now, we cannot explore those options while fighting this battle. Lastly, tell her that we expect to be home by New Years, and would very much like to have a celebration for our victory, if the treasury feels we can manage it."

I paused and waited as she wrote, translating my words into something written in shorthand and code, so that if the message fell into the wrong hands, they wouldn't know what was happening here or within the Republic.

I glanced at Miles, "You got anything man?" I murmured.

He shook his head but looked thoughtful. We had been on the front lines when the young messenger had arrived, and only in the last few hours had been able to sit and talk with her regarding the contents of the letters Becca had sent.

As Dee finished writing Miles crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat, "Dee? Is there anything else you can tell us about the outbreaks that you didn't tell Ambassador Flynn?" he prompted.

I studied the young woman as she set aside her pen and looked up at him, her lips parting thoughtfully, her forefinger tapping against her cheek as she pondered the question. Objectively I supposed she was beautiful; with rosy cheeks and bright eyes, curly strawberry hair and a curvy figure…sure, I could see what drew Miles's attention.

But with my thoughts and heart so drawn to one other woman, it was hard to see any other woman.

"I don' _think_ so. People move around so transiently now, it's hard to know where they came from or how these diseases showed up," she murmured, regret in face as she glanced between us, "I'm sorry I can't think of more," she offered.

Miles shook his head, "That's ok. If you do, please let Ambassador Flynn or one of us know," he ordered her gently.

I smirked, "Let Miles know. He and Becca run the Republic, I just sit around and look pretty," I joked with her.

To my surprise she laughed, "I doubt that President Monroe suh. Y'all are both very important, with tha weight of a Republic on ya shoulders," she murmured. She stood and gathered her letter and pens up, storing them in her kit, "If ya need anything, I'll be in tha tent for tha messengers," she murmured, her eyes flickering over to Miles, the look she gave him unmistakable.

I nodded and bit back another laugh, "Thank you Dee," I murmured, trying to hide my amusement. When she had disappeared from the tent I rounded on Miles, choking on my laughter, "Wooh! Brother! That is one hot little lady making eyes at you," I teased.

Miles scowled and flipped me off, shaking his head, "Shut up Bass," he muttered, shuffling through the papers on the table restlessly.

Laughing good naturedly I slapped him gently on the back, smiling softly, "Come on man, you can't exactly deny you both were getting an eyeful of each other. If you like her, go see her," I encouraged.

Miles frowned, "In the middle of a war?" he demanded, tossing the papers down onto the table.

I nodded, "This isn't boxing man; get some of that tension out of your system. Go see her and talk to her at least. Maybe you can get to know her more when you get back to the city," I prodded.

Miles stared down at the table for a long moment and then nodded slowly, "I'll just talk to her for a few minutes," he murmured, avoiding my smirking gaze as he stepped away, brushing through the tent opening without a look back.

"Go get 'em tiger," I murmured, shaking my head ruefully. Dropping into the chair Dee had occupied I pulled the pile of papers Miles had been shuffling and began reviewing them. In addition to the letters Becca had sent, she had included reviews of the military installations within the Republic—their crop growth, health of citizens, machinery and weaponry on site, and personnel guarding the bases.

Smiling faintly I propped my feet up and began reading, sipping the shitty coffee and missing my girl.

* * *

**December 31st, 2016**

Gunfire rained down in a fiery hail, dropping men like flies, their screams of agony joining the cacophony of chaos. Bass and I crouched behind a pile of rubble, occasionally popping our heads over for a better look at the situation before ducking back down as a sniper pounded rounds at us.

"Well this is bad," Bass shouted gleefully, firing at a group of men to my left, cursing when his clip clicked—empty.

"Quit fucking wasting ammo!" I shouted back, peering over the edge of a brick, trying to see where the sniper was that had us pinned down. Dusk was falling and the last thing I wanted was to be trapped here after dark with a sniper trying to kill us.

"Cover me," Bass panted as he curled his legs under him, pointing his body to the left, aiming to the group of men he had just killed.

"What the—" I bit back a curse and lay down suppression fire as he darted across the nearly ten feet of open ground to another spot of fallen rubble where the men's bodies lay. I watched as he ducked down, hidden from the sniper's rounds and began gathering up guns and extra clips of ammo.

Peering over at me he nodded and a breath later was running back, firing his pistol at the general direction of the sniper, slamming back into the tight space we were occupying with a laugh fueled by adrenaline.

"You're a fucking moron," I snapped, shaking my head.

"Yeah, yeah," Bass laughed, "you can thank me later," he suggested, grinning widely as he shoved an M4 into my lap.

Rolling my eyes I tucked the weapon into the nook beside me and hunkered down; it was going to be a long battle.

* * *

Our militia men were slowly pushing forwards, overwhelming the rebels, but that damn sniper still hadn't been taken out. Night had fallen and the fighting had slowed, allowing Bass and I to retreat a few hundred yards behind a ruined building before another sniper had located us and pinned us down again.

Dawn was quickly approaching; the sky was a burning pink, but the air was frozen, our breath steamed in the bitter cold as we huddled together, trying to preserve body heat.

"W-what happens in the f-foxhole s-stays in the f-foxhole, huh?" Bass joked, nudging my shoulder with his, waggling his brows suggestively, his lips curling up in a faint smile. I cracked a smile in return and laughed softly, burying my face in the crook of my elbow as it turned into a hacking cough.

"D-doesn't s-sound g-good man," Bass whispered, and I could hear the concern in his voice.

I peered over at him as my coughing subsided and shook my head, "Just a c-cold," I whispered back, my throat raw. Truth be told I had a fever and my head ached, but we couldn't exactly call a time out so I could sleep and take some Nyquil.

"M-maybe D-dee can t-take care of y-you. G-give you a h-hot bath," Bass whispered, a low laugh rumbling in his chest as I scowled at him.

"S-shut up. Y-you're going t-to give a-away our p-position," I hissed.

Bass rolled his eyes, we both knew that the rebels knew where we were, they just didn't want to throw more men into the gristmill to come and kill us. Not yet anyway.

As the day grew longer the air warmed slowly and our chills and shivers ceased, allowing us to crawl over the rubble and scout for the snipers. I peered up at the ruined buildings, searching for any sign of movement and paused, gazing at the open window on the third floor of an apartment building to our left.

I nudged Bass and pointed my chin, "There. Sniper."

He turned slowly and watched the window, his exhalation of excitement letting me know that he had seen the barrel of the rifle peeking out of the window just as I had.

"I can get up there," he whispered glancing over his shoulder at me, eyes gleaming with eagerness.

"No. I'll lay down fire and you retreat and send a group of men here to take him out," I ordered firmly.

Bass's brow furrowed and he shook his head, "And you do what in the meantime? Die?" He shook his head vehemently, "No, no way I'm leaving you here by yourself," he refuted.

"Goddamn it Bass!" I hissed, "One of us has to go! You're the President, it needs to be you! Becca will kill me if something happens to you!"

Bass hesitated at that and then shook his head, "Nice try, but no. Come up with a better plan," he murmured, turning away.

The sound of boots scraping over dirt and rock got both of our attention quickly and we adjusted our positions, searching for the approaching targets. I spotted them first, bodies in blue, and after a moment realized they were our men and women.

Putting my fingers in my mouth I whistled three times, two high pitched blasts, then one low. It was an agreed upon signal that all militia members were trained in the meaning and use of. _Friendly uniform, don't fire._

A moment later the whistle blasts were repeated back, and I sighed in relief. Whoever was out there was indeed our militia. The blast of gunfire broke the quiet of the morning and garbled shouts reached us as someone tried to keep order.

"—back!"

"—Sniper!"

"—together!"

Bass shook his head, scowling, "They're going to retreat," he growled. I nodded, whoever was leading this group didn't know who we were, and they weren't going to come barreling into this open area that was essentially a dead end trap to rescue us.

The sound of gunfire grew louder and closer, the shocks of it ringing in my ears. Bass and I exchanged a look, were they coming for us? Gripping my pistol tighter I prepared for an assault, ready for anything really.

A young black man ran down the alley, followed by three other militia members, each of them carrying improvised shields, flinching as bullets bit into the wood or metal around them. They fired at the snipers and waved at us, "Let's go!" the young man yelled.

I nodded and slung the M4 over my shoulder, waiting for Bass to gather his weapons before we crouched and followed them, heading for a parallel street. Bullets whizzed by so closely I could feel the breeze they created and my gut clenched.

The street was 50 feet ahead when something slammed into my shoulder, knocking me to the ground.

"Miles!"

Bass's terrified shout came from a few feet away and a moment later he was by my side, his wide blue eyes searching my face as his hands gripped my arm sending an unexpected shock of fiery pain through it.

Groaning I rolled away from his touch and bit my cheek, realizing I had been shot. Bullets tore into the ground around us, puffs of dirt being thrown up into our faces and obscuring our sight.

"We gotta go!" shouted the young black man who had run to our defense.

"He's shot!" Bass yelled back.

"It doesn't matter! We'll be dead if we don't move!" the kid screamed back, firing at the window where the sniper was firing from.

Bass growled in frustration and leaned down to me, grabbing my uninjured arm and pulled me up, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Time to go buddy," he muttered, keeping a tight grip on both me and his gun.

The group of militia surrounding us urged us forward, firing at the snipers and the rebels who had emerged from the shadows, killing as many as they could before we retreated down the side street, the sound of gunfire seeming to fade.

My shoulder pounded with every step we took and my eyes struggled to stay open, the throbbing in my head growing.

"Come on man, stay awake," Bass ordered, squeezing my waist, his voice urgent.

"Mmmhmm," I mumbled, eyes drooping.

We turned a corner and I heard Bass swear as I slumped against him, my body flushing hot and cold with each heartbeat.

Darkness swam up to greet me and I welcomed it with open arms.

* * *

_**AN: I really hope you guys like this chapter since we get to see a little of Bass and Miles. I haven't really done that before with both of them, and I like the way it turned out! I hope the southern accent with Dee was okay...I'm not southern, but I took a swing at it! Anyway, this and the next episode are the "christmas/new years" chapters, so Happy Holidays (early) from me! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and following! Keep it up and my love to you all!** _


	20. Happy New Year

**January 10th, 2017**

Turning the letter over in my fingers I stared out the window at the snow that was falling, tucking my feet more securely beneath the blanket that was pulled around my body and wondered if Bass and Miles were ever going to return.

The Trenton Campaign had ended five days ago with complete and total surrender by the rebels, and apparently, with Miles being shot. They had remained for three more days to give the wounded time to heal, to negotiate with the rebel leaders on terms of annexation into the Republic, and to bury the dead.

Dee still hadn't returned; instead she had sent a man from the main body of the front, informing me that Commanding General Matheson had asked her for her assistance and her skills as a messenger.

Scoffing, I tossed the letter aside, smirking faintly. Knowing Miles, he had probably already charmed the southern girl half into his bed and was asking her to stay so he could finish the job on the road back home, using his injury as a tool.

I loved him, but Miles needed someone mature, and Dee didn't seem the type. Sighing, I shook my head, but what did I know? I had talked to the girl all of one time and most of it had been an argument.

If she made him happy, I supposed that was what was important.

Picking up the novel I had abandoned earlier, I attempted reading again, trying to let myself get lost in the story. Eventually the plot captured my attention and I was flipping pages intently, heart beating quickly, tension filling my body.

"Hey darlin, good book?"

Bass's voice broke the quiet of the room, his breath passing along my cheek from where he leaned over me, and I yelped, startled. His warm laughter sent shivers over my skin as he gently nudged my shoulder, pushing me forward on the window seat so he could sit behind me and pull me against his chest.

His muscular forearms were bare, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his boots had been kicked off—probably before he entered the suite so he could sneak up on me. He pulled the blanket tighter around us and wrapped his arms around my torso, nuzzling his face into my neck.

We sat together in silence, my fingers twining together with his, eyes closed, just breathing in his scent and reveling in the feeling of our closeness. His breath on my neck felt like heaven and occasional his lips would brush across my skin, his nose running softly over where my muscles stood out, the sensations thrilling me.

"I missed you," he confessed, the words soft against my body. If anyone else had heard them, they probably would have been shocked. Bass was a stoic man in public, reserved and often only friendly with those he cared about. He held back with me to avoid accusations of favoritism, but rumors were there nonetheless.

I loved him for it.

I turned my head and waited for him to lift his face to mine, smiling at him sweetly, "I missed you too," I whispered before tilting my lips to meet his, sighing when his hand reached up to tangle in my hair, holding me close.

We parted slowly, lips meeting time and again in soft, tender kisses; his hand cupping my cheek. I could feel him smiling against my lips and pulled away, my eyes drifting open. Resting my forehead against his I smiled softly, "Why are you smiling?" I asked, barely whispering.

His smile grew wider and his hand at my hip tightened, "You moved in," he replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Tilting my head slightly I chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips again. "I did. Isn't that what you wanted?" I asked softly.

He nodded faintly and stroked my cheek, "I just can't believe we're here together, finally," he said, sighing on the last word, his eyes closing in exhaustion. I pulled back slightly and for the first time could see the dark circles beneath his eyes and the new lines on his face.

Frowning, I ran my fingers over his face, trying to smooth them away. "Why don't we relax," I suggested, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll have the tub filled, and get you a meal, and for tonight, we'll just be together," I murmured.

Bass's eyes opened as a smile curled his mouth. "What about Miles?" he asked softly.

I lifted a teasing brow, "I'm not really about threesomes, but if you're into having him here…" I trailed off as he squeezed my hip and kissed me, a chuckle rumbling through his chest and against mine.

We broke apart smiling and he shook his head, "You should visit him. I mean, he's doing okay, but he'll want to see you," he murmured, and I could see something in his eyes that sent a dart of worry through me.

I nodded, smiling reassuringly at him, "Okay, I'll go see him while they heat water for the bath. Why don't you lay down for a little while?" I suggested, tugging on his hand as I stood. He frowned but allowed me to pull him to the bed and push him onto the mattress.

"Stay and rest while I take care of things, okay?" I ordered gently, smiling when he complied with minimal manly grunting and objections. Slipping my boots back on I shut the door behind me and went to the water processing room and requested to have our bathwater heated before going to the kitchen and requesting a meal for us both.

Turning for Miles's quarters I wondered if I would find Dee within and then smirked, knocking on the door before pushing it open and glancing around, letting out a soft breath of relief when I didn't see the young messenger inside.

Miles was in bed, his arm in a sling and his face flushed. His eyes were glazed with pain and fever and he smiled weakly, "Becca," he called softly, breaking out into a coughing fit immediately.

Frowning I went to the side table and poured him a glass of water, hurrying to his side to help him drink. He swallowed half the glass, and then shoved it aside. Shaking his head, he took a few slow breaths and then spoke slowly, "Damn cold. Can't speak without coughing," he murmured, and then coughed again.

I nodded, "We've got meds though, are you taking anything?" I demanded.

He shook his head, "The doc said it's just a common cold. I'm not taking meds from people who will actually need them." At my stink eye he frowned, "I'm getting fluids and tea, and rest. I'm not allowed out of bed other than to use the bathroom, so trust me I'm resting," he muttered, shifting on the bed as though he was uncomfortable.

Knowing Miles, he probably was. The man was in constant motion, and being stuck in bed didn't help anything. Sighing I shook my head and smiled faintly, "Can I get you anything?" I asked.

"No, I already had some soup and tea. I'm probably gonna have some pain meds soon and go to sleep," he replied, smiling softly at me.

I nodded and gave him a knowing smile, "And will Dee be bringing you those meds?" I asked wryly.

To my surprise he flushed and then laughed softly, "Maybe," he murmured.

"You _like_ her!" I exclaimed softly, shocked.

Miles nodded, "Apparently," he admitted.

"Well, just don't screw all my female messengers. I need them to want to stick around," I teased lightly.

He shot me a reproachful look and I laughed softly before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, ignoring his objections. "Get some rest," I murmured, smiling worriedly at him. He nodded and waved a hand as I shut the door, though if he was saying goodbye or shooing me, I couldn't tell.

Miles was a grumpy bastard.

Shaking my head I smirked softly and walked back to Bass's and my suite and found the door open, a trio of people filing out, carrying empty buckets. Smiling gratefully at them I shut the door behind me and found Bass sitting up on the bed, giving me a sleepy look.

"Bath's ready," I murmured, unbuttoning my shirt as I walked towards the bathroom. His eyes lost their sleepy look and widened with interest as I dropped my shirt to the ground, smirking at him.

As I unbuttoned my jeans and wriggled out of them he followed me into the bathroom, rapidly undressing. Laughing softly I quickly removed the rest of my clothing and motioned for him to hurry up.

With a smirk he stripped off his jeans, revealing his commando status and stepped into the tub, hissing at the bite of the steaming water. When he had leaned back against the copper rim I swung a leg over and quickly slid in, leaning back against his chest.

His arms wrapped around my waist as his lips brushed against my shoulder, a soft sigh of contentment brushing against my skin.

"Better?" I murmured, turning to kiss him softly. He nodded and ran his fingers over my arm slowly, sending shivers over my skin. Closing my eyes I sank lower in the water and nestled my head into the crook of his shoulder, relaxing and enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

It had been months since we had been this close…since before the plague had broke out.

My eyes opened abruptly and I sighed in frustration, turning my head away to stare at the tiling on the floor surrounding us.

"What's wrong?" Bass murmured, his fingers tightening around my hip.

I didn't want to tell him. How could I tell him when he had just gotten back? Shouldn't I wait for a better time? _Excuses…_ my mind taunted me and I mentally flipped myself off, grimacing.

"I-there's…ugh…" I trailed off, not knowing how to start. I could feel Bass's steady heartbeat against my back and took a deep breath, trying again, turning my head to rest my cheek against his shoulder again.

"When we were on the way to the Plains Nation, something happened. I got sick. Pretty badly actually," I murmured. His hands on my waist tightened and I felt his head tilt down to try and look at me.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly, the worry clear in his voice.

I took another deep breath and continued, "I thought it was just the flu, but the doctor ran some tests and determined I was pregnant," I whispered. At this his fingers on my body jolted, flattening out to press against my stomach as though they were searching for a hidden baby.

"Wha-I don't…" he murmured, shock making his voice faint.

I laid my fingers between his and swallowed hard, "It wasn't viable. It was an ectopic pregnancy, so it was probably in my fallopian tubes, but either way, in today's world, it wouldn't have survived," I whispered.

A lump the size of Nebraska was in my throat as I struggled to finish speaking, "I-I wanted you to know earlier, but you got so sick and I was scared you were going to die, and I didn't want that to be on your mind, and I wanted to be the one to tell you. Only Natasha and the doctor know, but other people might have guessed, I'm not sure," I told him rushing the words, frankly terrified he would have some sort of meltdown.

The silence after I stopped speaking ate at me, worrying me into almost speaking three times, but I bit my tongue, waiting for him to say something.

When he nudged my shoulder and pushed me forward I turned to face him, scared he was going to step out of the tub and walk away from me forever. Instead I found a face lined with shock and sorrow, his eyes a deeper blue than I had ever seen them.

His hand lifted from my hip to my cheek, beads of water rolling down my cheek from where his fingers rested against my face and his lips parted as his head shook softly, "You went through that alone baby?" he whispered.

_Baby_

He hadn't ever called me that before. Something inside me snapped at the gentle, worried tone he used and as I nodded, I began to cry, silent mournful tears streaming down my face for the child we had lost.

His arms were around me in a moment, pressing my face into his neck, his fingers curling into my hair as he made soft reassuring noises. "Shh baby, it's okay, you're okay, I promise," he whispered, his other hand stroking my back.

I could hear the grief in his voice and it broke my heart, knowing he had lost another child. I pulled away from his shoulder and wiped at my eyes, my chin trembling. "I-I'm sorry Sebastian. There wasn't anything I could do, but I know how much you want to have a family," I whispered.

A shadow passed over his face and he sighed heavily, shaking his head, "You thought I would be mad at you for telling me this?" he murmured, deep lines between his brows as he studied my face.

I bit my lip and tried to look away, fear making my heart skip, my stomach twisting nastily. Bass stroked my cheek and put pressure on my chin, silently asking me to look at him. Sighing I turned back to look at him and nodded, my eyes filling again.

"I-I thought you would blame me. After Shelley…" I trailed off at the pained look on his face and his heavy sigh.

Bass shook his head and a ghostly smile tugged at his lips, "Baby, I have a family with you and Miles. If we never have kids, it'll be okay," he promised, stroking my cheek gently.

I smiled weakly and leaned in to kiss him, "Liar," I murmured against his lips.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest and he smirked at me as I pulled away. "Honestly Becca, if we can't have kids, that's ok. I love you and we will be happy no matter what happens," he assured me.

I lifted a brow but didn't challenge him again, deciding I would take him at his word. If kids were in our future, they would happen. For now, we would be happy with just each other.

Bass wound his fingers through my hair again and pulled me in for another kiss, a soft noise coming from his chest as I ran my fingers through his hair. His hand at my hips pulled until I had shifted and sat on his lap, my knees spread over his hips.

Winding my arm around his neck I toyed with his hair as he kissed me, enjoying the slow build of heat within my body. His fingers crept slowly over my back, pressing me into him, arching my hips against his.

"Hello? I have your dinner President Monroe, Ambassador Flynn," a voice called from the other room.

We broke apart, panting softly and Bass laughed against my neck, pressing his lips to my throat as I cleared my throat and called back, "T-thank you, we're bathing, can you please leave it on the writing table?"

There was a moment of silence and then the sound of a tray setting down. "It's covered so it stays warm ma'am," the female voice replied and a moment later the door opened and closed, leaving us to our selves.

I turned my attention back to Bass who was busy kissing his way down my chest, doing a fine job of distracting me. Laughing softly I pushed him away and grinned at his disappointed look, "You have to be hungry after that long ride back," I murmured, tracing a finger over his shoulder, noting how thin he had gotten again.

He smirked, "It wasn't that bad," he replied, leaning back in kiss my neck, his tongue lapping against my skin for a heady moment, "Besides, I like the _ride_ " he whispered, rolling his hips against mine at the word _ride_.

I gasped softly at the sensation and dug my fingers into his shoulder. "Point taken," I whispered, laughing weakly. "But I'm hungry, even if you aren't. And you smell," I breathed into his ear before standing and stepping out of the tub, smirking at him as he gawked at my abrupt exit.

As I toweled off Bass laughed and began to scrub himself off quickly, eager to join me as I wrapped the towel around me and sauntered out to our bedroom. Shivering in the cool air, I knelt and lit the kindling in the fireplace, watching as the flames grew large enough to sustain themselves around larger logs.

Tossing a few on, I stood and dropped my towel on a drying rack near the fireplace, letting my hair down to air dry while dressing in a pair of shorts and one of Bass's thick sweaters. Carrying the tray of food from the table to our bed I shoved the blankets down with one hand and crawled beneath them, resting the tray beside me.

A moment later Bass emerged from the bathroom, towel draped loosely around his well formed hips, a grin on his lips as he sauntered over to the bed, his blue eyes mischievous. Leaning over he braced his hands on the bed and invaded my space until I could feel the heat radiating off his skin and the scent of him, warm and delicious.

"Hey baby," he whispered, grinning at me for a moment before leaning further in to kiss me firmly, his wet hair brushing against my face.

A soft moan of pleasure slipped from my throat and I tilted my chin up for more, letting out a surprised noise when he pulled away and laughed, stepping away to tug his towel off and rub it over his head, presenting me with his deliciously firm ass.

Eyeing him over I smirked and lifted the cover on the food, inhaling gratefully at the scent of our venison steaks, roasted potatoes and leeks, and braised carrots.

Bass tossed his towel onto the rack near mine and sauntered over to the bed, sliding beneath the covers with a shiver, "It's cold," he complained, giving me an exaggerated puppy dog face as he snuggled into me, pulling me into his lap.

Laughing, I pulled the tray of food into my lap and waved a hand, "How are you supposed to eat now?" I demanded as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

He grinned down at me, "Feed me?" he suggested, laughing when I punched him in the shoulder and shook my head vehemently _no._

"I did that once when you were dying, that's the only way I'm doing it," I told him, a note of seriousness sliding into my voice.

He sighed and kissed my neck softly, "I know baby, I'm sorry," he murmured. Lifting a hand from my waist he reached for the fork with his plate and began eating, little grunts of pleasure coming from him with every couple of bites.

I smirked and took my bites slower; I was hungry, but not _I just fought in a weeks long war and rode back with a half dead best friend-_ kind of hungry. I also knew he was tired, but that he was going to fight it until the last moment, asking questions about the Republic and how things were going in his absence, and making love to me(not that I had any objections to that one).

The clatter of his fork against the china drew me out of my thoughts and a moment later I felt him relax back against the pillows with a contented sigh. "Damn that was good," he muttered.

I looked down at my half empty plate and then over my shoulder at his weary face, dark circles under his eyes, and new lines creasing his mouth. "Have the rest of mine," I murmured, shifting my plate towards him.

He shook his head, "No, I'm full, promise," he replied, giving me a heartfelt look and lifting his hand in an _I swear_ motion.

"Mmmhm," I hummed and ate a few more bites before lifting the fork and holding it out to him, arching a brow, "Eat," I ordered softly.

A tired smirk crossed his lips and he opened his lips, taking the bite without complaint. As he chewed he watched me take a bite and chuckled softly, "I like it when you boss me around," he murmured.

Lifting another bite for him I waited till his mouth was full to reply. "I'll remind you of that the next time you're annoyed with me for making a decision you don't like," I said softly, smirking.

We shared a quiet laugh as I continued to feed him; taking bites myself until the plate was empty. Sliding from his arms, I carried the tray to the table and bent to add another log to the fire, standing in front of it to watch the flames and warm my legs.

I was relieved that Bass had taken the news of my miscarriage well, though I was shocked by my own depth of feeling over the revelation of the information to him. I had thought I had dealt with the issue after it had happened, but looking back, I realized that I hadn't really had the time to think about it or process what had happened to me.

Staring into the flames I wondered if we ever would have children together, and if that was something I even wanted. Shifting before the flames so my legs weren't so close I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.

I was only 26, I still had plenty of time to have kids, there wasn't a rush. Hell, it's not like Bass and I were married. My fingers curled into Bass's sweater and I glanced down at my ring finger, wondering what it would be like to see an engagement ring there.

"You coming back to bed?"

My shoulders jerked at Bass's sleepy voice and I turned to find him reclining on the pillows, watching me through hooded eyes, a faint smile curling his mouth. Nodding, I padded over softly and blew out the candles beside the bed before slipping under the covers, curling into him with a soft sigh.

"Mmm, you're warm," he whispered, turning towards me and pulling me closer, his fingers sliding under my sweater to brush softly against my back.

"Mmmhmm," I murmured, running my fingers over his cheekbones. Christ, I loved his cheekbones. I loved his jaw line too. I loved every part of him. I loved touching him.

But I could see how tired he was and I held back from caressing him any further, instead running my fingers through his hair gently, enjoying his gentle moan of pleasure. "Go to sleep baby," I whispered, using his term of endearment on him, smiling softly.

He made a sleepy noise of protest, but I could feel his breathing slowing, growing more even as I ran my thumb over his temple, soothing him. Eventually he fell asleep, his arms wrapped around my waist and back, his face nestled in my throat.

I watched him sleep, the lines of exhaustion slipping away and the tension in his body drained. I sighed and closed my eyes, my fingers still carding through his hair gently, slowly. "I love you Sebastian," I whispered.

* * *

"I got shot, I'm not an invalid!" Miles gripped as I pulled out a chair for him at the table where we held our meetings with the internal heads of government and militia. Smirking I waited till he had sat and then slapped him roughly on the back of the head, bursting out laughing when he yelped and glared at me.

Giving him as innocent a look as I could as I walked to my chair, I bit back laughter, my shoulders shaking, "What? You're not an invalid; that means I can treat you like the asshole you are!" I retorted.

I could see the glint of humor in his eye even as he shook his head and cursed softly, rolling his eyes.

"Playing nicely?" Bass asked, striding into the room just soon enough to see the tail end of our interaction.

I smiled sweetly at both men, "Always," I said, my voice like saccharine.

Bass smirked and shook his head, glancing around the room as men and women filtered in. His face straightened into his formal _Presidential_ look, and his shoulders stiffened as his hands rested on the back of his chair, his eyes icy as he watched people take their seats.

After a long moment the room went silent, all eyes on him. His gaze moved slowly around the table, his eyes meeting mine for a breath longer than the rest before he nodded sharply and cleared his throat, "I'm pleased to see you all have made it through the New Year and are ready to work. Let's proceed."

With that the meeting began and we set about discussing the new border tariffs, militia training protocols, tax incentives, monetary values, trade routes, crops to be planted and how rebels would be dealt with.

As usual the militia wanted to deal with militia and battle issues first, but I along with Jennifer and our new Secretary of Agriculture, James Hudson, successfully negotiated the conversation towards topics of finance and growth—things that would mean the continued success of the Republic even while battles with rebels were fought.

Tom Neville leaned forward, frowning, "I simply feel that it's more vital to be discussing our strategy on the rebels, given that we've only recently retaken Trenton from their grasp. Things such as crop growth and taxes can surely wait till the next meeting," he said, giving Bass and Miles obsequious looks.

Biting the inside of my cheek for a moment I cut my eyes to Bass who barely lowered his chin, but I saw it for the permission it was. Exhaling slowly I smiled sharply at Neville, "Tom, I understand why you might think it's important to focus on our militia right now, and I'm sure that most of the men and women at the table would agree with you that the Republic's situation has been dire this year."

Heads around the table bobbed in agreement. "But let me remind you all of something. If we don't put seeds in the ground and grow crops, our people will _die_. **We** will die. This Republic you are all so desperate to fight for, _will die._ "

I looked around the table at each person, my eyes steely. "If you want this venture to succeed, you will listen when I and my colleagues tell you that what is needed is planning, and your attention."

I turned my gaze back to Tom and my voice turned honeyed, "I would hardly think you, _of all people_ , would want their family to starve, let alone the good people of the Republic, would you Tom?" I murmured.

I could feel the tension around the table at my pointed words and I watched as his gaze narrowed on me before he visibly forced himself to relax, falling back in his chair with a genial smile. "Of course not! I see your point, please, let's hear these plans for crop growth!" he encouraged.

I nodded and sat back, turning my attention to James as he cleared his throat and began his presentation.

* * *

"You shouldn't have needled Tom like that in front of everyone," Miles murmured, leaning against the wall of my office as I searched through a stack of papers for an almanac. Frowning I pulled open my drawers and rooted through, knowing it was here somewhere.

"Well, he shouldn't be such a toadying numbnuts and I wouldn't have to," I replied sharply, shutting my desk drawer harder than I meant to, rattling the desk. Sighing, I braced my hands on the desk and jerked my chin towards the cabinet beside Miles, "Can you look in there for an almanac?" I asked softly.

He studied me for a moment and then sighed, nodding. I turned to my other drawers and continued searching, "You and Bass shouldn't trust him. He's slimy and he's ambitious. He'll turn on you the second he gets the chance," I muttered.

A soft thud pulled my head up to see the almanac resting on my desk, Miles standing over it. He shook his head slowly, "I know. But that's what I'm here for. I watch his back, and yours. You just don't shoot off your mouth whenever you want, you know," he scolded.

I frowned at him, "I don't. Not anymore. But that man needed taken down a peg!" I insisted.

Miles sighed and smiled faintly, "Fine. Just try not to piss him off too badly, huh?" he replied gruffly, "I'd hate to have to find another pain in the ass kid to watch out for," he grumbled.

Laughing softly I stepped around the desk and leaned up to kiss his cheek softly, "Love you too Miles," I murmured.

He grumbled softly but his good arm wrapped around my shoulder and squeezed me quickly before he stepped back, a flush across his cheeks. I grinned, it was cute how affection averse Miles was, but how loving he was deep down. I knew without a doubt he would step in front of a bullet for Bass or me, without hesitation.

Clearing his throat he pulled the door open and stepped out, "Gotta go, I have work, papers or some shit," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

I smirked, "You should get Dee to help you with that," I teased, snickering when he flushed and stammered before turning and walking rapidly away.

Snatching the almanac off my desk I shut the blinds against the bright light from the snow outside and wrapped my scarf around my neck, grabbing my keys to lock the door. The creak of the floorboards behind me was the only warning I had before blinding pain erupted behind my ear.

Slumping to the ground I cried out in shock and agony as another blow fell on my upraised arm—trying to stave off my attacker—followed by a swift kick to the ribs that crackled sharply and left me retching and gasping for air.

I lay flat against the ground, eyes blurring as tears streamed out, but I was just able to make out a pair of black boots, inches from my nose. Air rippled in and out of my chest brutally, and a as I struggled to turn my face up to try and identify my attacker, one of the boots swung back.

"Choke on this _bitch_ ," a snarling voice rasped before the boot slammed into my face and everything when painfully, blissfully black.

* * *

_**AN: Well, not exactly the Merry Christmas or Happy New Year I think Becca was looking for! But things will be looking up for our heroine soon, so don't fret! I hope you enjoy the story, please review! Thank you as always for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing!** _


	21. God Bless the Republic

"Ms. Mills, you're new within our government, can you tell me why it is you were hired?"

The young woman shifted uncomfortably in the metal chair, her gaze averted from mine as she toyed nervously with her hair. Her foot jiggled anxiously against the ground and she shook her head, "I don't honestly know, it's not like I applied," she murmured.

"Being a smart ass isn't going to help you," I snapped, leaning forward in my chair to glare at her. She flinched away from me and ran a shuddering hand over her face, a low squeaking noise of terror slipping through her fingers.

Frustration welled in me at her meek response and I stood abruptly, kicking the chair away. At this she shrieked and cowered in her chair, trembling beneath me as I glared at her.

"Stop cowering and answer me!" I ordered in a low commanding voice, my hands balled into fists at my sides, shaking with barely suppressed anger. _Control, you need to stay in control…_

To my surprise she turned her bright blue eyes up to mine and glared back at me, her arms wrapping around herself as she spoke. "I already told you, I don't _get_ why I was hired. I was an auditor at the IRS before everything changed and Ambassador Flynn asked me if I thought I could handle running the Treasury and audit the finances of the Republic. I told her I could and she hired me."

She cocked her head to the side and arched a brow, "Anything else you'd like to know?" she asked angrily.

"You should speak with more respect to your President," I hissed as I leaned toward her, eyes narrowing in anger. We remained locked, staring at each other until finally I turned away, shaking my head slowly.

"Get out," I commanded softly, wrenching the door open and staring at the wall as I waited for her to leave.

Her footsteps were soft as she scurried past and a breath later I slammed the door shut, my head throbbing with a well of frustrated emotions. I needed to find out who had attacked Becca and why, and so far, these interviews hadn't revealed anything of worth.

I was failing her.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You've been with me for how long now Tom?"

I leaned against the stone wall and flipped through a file, reading for a moment before glancing up at him. I of course, already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear what Tom had to say. Of all the suspects for Becca's attack, he was the most likely, the one that had the biggest grudge against her.

"For two years now, sir. Since June of 2015," he replied confidently, smiling self assuredly at me.

"When Becca saved your family from starvation," I stated, watching as consternation and anger rippled over his face before sliding away to be replaced with a calm mask of polite indifference.

"Yes, when Ambassador Flynn gave us enough rations to survive," he replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

 

Becca was right; I'd have to keep an eye on him.

I nodded slowly, "And you've risen through the ranks of the militia fairly quickly, wouldn't you say?" I asked, watching his reaction again as I glanced between him and the paperwork.

He barked out a laugh and shook his head, "I've simply worked hard sir. Is there something wrong with that?" he asked, a note of aggression in his voice.

"Not at all, I'm glad to have someone so _ambitious_ helping lead my militia," I murmured, smiling faintly at him. Closing the folder I leaned away from the wall and tilted my head, studying him for a moment.

I had no proof it had been Tom or anyone who worked for him that had attacked Becca, but my gut told me I shouldn't trust him.

"Well Tom, I trust that if you have any information pertaining to Becca's attack you'll tell me," I ordered, lifting a brow.

I watched as he tilted his chin, studying me in return for a moment, his dark eyes flashing with some emotion I couldn't grasp, and then in a breath, he was smiling.

"Of course President Monroe. I'll let you know if I hear of anything," he assured me, his face earnest and reassuring.

I didn't believe him for a second.

"Excellent, thank you Tom," I murmured, stepping back to allow him to leave. He smiled slowly, his eyes empty as he walked past me, opening the door to leave.

"I heard she hasn't woken up yet, is that true?" he asked softly.

I stood petrified, staring at the seat he had been occupying, not wanting to turn and see the expression on his face; the tone of his voice, morbid curiosity and perhaps a touch of eagerness, was enough to tell me it wasn't pleasant.

"No, not yet. They say if the pressure in her skull from the bleeding goes down by tonight she should wake up tomorrow," I murmured.

He made a curious noise and a moment later I heard the door shut softly.

A gasp shuddered out of me and I reached a hand out to brace against the chair, my chest heaving with emotion. My vision blurred as hot tears of anger and fear surged forward, threatening to choke me.

It had been four days since Becca had been attacked, four torturous days of fearing for her life, wondering if she would make it through every moment, every breath. I could barely get through each second without questioning who had hurt her, a constant swell of rage filling me, leaving me shaky and barely in control.

With a twist of my wrist I flung the chair across the room, my emotions spilling over in a fury. A moment later the door was tossed open and Miles strode in, gun in hand, searching the room for the cause of the commotion.

He glanced around the room at the destroyed chair and back to where I was standing, his face furrowing in concern.

"What did Tom have to say?" he asked as he holstered his gun.

Running my fingers through my hair I shook my head, "Nothing useful, of course. What do you think happened?" I asked softly, leaning against the wall, my head aching fiercely. Miles studied me for a moment and then turned to shut to the door, his expression closed off and his jaw firm.

He turned back to face me and I could see new lines around his eyes, ones that had been carved there by the agony of the past few days. He sighed heavily and shook his head, "I don't know what happened Bass, no one is telling me anything, it's like she was attacked by a ghost," he murmured.

I scoffed and shook my head, "Someone is lying. Someone knows what happened," I replied harshly, glaring at him.

"Bass, you think I don't know that? It's not like we have security cameras to rely on, we have to interrogate people and determine if their word is enough!" he growled back.

His dark eyes flared with frustration and he tossed a hand up, as though he was searching for something, "Man, I don't know what we're going to do. If we can't keep her safe here, how is she supposed to be safe travelling and being the Ambassador?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

"You try telling _her_ that Miles and let me know how well it goes," I scoffed, shaking my head. Rubbing at the scruff that had accumulated on my jaw in the stress of the past days I sighed heavily, exhaustion sinking into my bones.

"Miles…what do I do?" I asked softly, staring down at the shiny tops of my boots.

A moment later I felt the heavy weight of his hand on my shoulder and I looked up, jaw flexing as I struggled against the weight of emotions in my chest. Miles's dark eyes were filled with compassion and I saw the struggle in his face too, and it nearly undid me.

"We keep going brother," he murmured.

I nodded slowly and blinked rapidly against the pressure building in my nose, threatening to spill over into tears.

"We keep going," I agreed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sinking down into the chair at my desk with a heavy sigh I cast a glance at the pile of paperwork and files that grew every day, each of them containing classified, dangerous and important information that would need my immediate attention.

Unscrewing the lid on the bottle of rum I sloshed a generous portion into a glass and began sorting through the files, sipping slowly. The flames in the fireplace crackled softly behind me, filling the room with warmth, pushing back against the darkness and chill of winter's bite, but they did nothing to rid the chill that seemed to fill me.

Mindlessly I flipped through the pages, signing where it was required, and adding in commentary where I found flaw in laws that were proposed. As I tossed aside another file a slip of paper caught my eye, lying on top of the next file, the paper blood red and the wax sealing it black.

Snatching it up I quickly broke the seal and flipped open the paper, reading the words rapidly, my heart pounding with each syllable.

_She was attacked by someone she knows._

_Trust no one._

_\------------------------------------------------------------_

I stood at attention, hands tucked behind my back, watching as the newest recruits to the militia were sworn into their posts, the crowd of citizens gathered behind the nearly five hundred strong. As the oath completed and the crowd cheered I smiled benignly, watching as the newest members of the militia turned to join their families or friends and celebrate.

"A fine sight, eh Mr. President?"

My stomach churned at the sound of Tom Neville's voice, so smug and self assured, right in my ear. Turning slightly, I gave him a cold smile, "Indeed Captain Neville. And how is your family?" I asked pointedly.

His eyes flashed with annoyance before he smiled, "Fine, just fine, sir. My boy is training for the militia and getting stronger every day," he announced proudly. He tilted his head, "And how is Ambassador Flynn?" he asked curiously.

Anger flared in my throat, choking me with the taste of iron, the desire to hit him nearly overwhelming. Instead I clenched my fist behind my back and smiled calmly, "Better, the doctors are saying she should wake soon," I lied.

Neville nodded and smiled crookedly, "I'm happy to hear it. My wife and I have kept her in our prayers," he confided softly.

"That's very kind of you," I murmured before turning away, keeping my gaze on the crowd as I struggled to contain the roiling ball of anger in my chest.

He made a soft noise and lifted a hand, waving to a beautiful blonde woman approaching, a handsome young man at her side—his family I presumed. As they closed on us Neville made quick introductions, forcing me to smile politely and make small talk, my annoyance growing with each moment.

After nearly twenty minutes of polite, inane chatter I smiled tightly, my polite façade cracking, "If you'll excuse me, I have to go, I have meetings I need to attend," I murmured in as apologetic a tone as I could manage, extricating myself as smoothly as possible.

Turning down the hallways of the building I glanced over my shoulder, making sure no one was following as I made my way to the room where Becca was being treated. It had been seven days since she had been attacked, and her condition had only improved marginally in the days since.

Pausing outside the door I knocked softly, waiting for access from the doctor or nurse that would be within the room, making sure she was safe and well cared for. A moment later the door swung open and Natasha, her personal guard opened the door, flanked by a nurse in grey scrubs.

They stepped back silently to allow me into the room and quickly shut the door, ensuring that no one followed. Glancing at the nurse I nodded sharply, "What's her prognosis today?" I murmured as I approached her bed, sitting down gently at her side.

The woman nodded and approached the bed, standing opposite us, her long blonde braid curled over her shoulder as she sat on the other side slowly. Her smile was easy, reassuring, as she spoke.

"President Monroe, her condition is improving. Her blood pressure is lowering now that the pressure in her skull has dropped. We've prevented an infection so far with antibiotics, but our main concern is that she's not waking up. She suffered severe trauma to the head, and without the ability to run an MRI, we have to rely on time and hope that the Burr Holes we created were enough to drain the pressure created by the bleeding she was suffering from," she calmly explained.

I looked down at Becca's bruised and battered body, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest and nodded, "What if she doesn't wake up?" I asked softly; it was the one question I had been afraid to ask for days now, but it seemed more and more likely as time passed.

The nurse sighed and took Becca's hand in her own gently, giving me a sad smile, "For now we have her on IV fluids and nutrients. We'll do everything in our power to keep her alive. But we have limited resources, and if she doesn't wake up in the next few days," she sighed and shook her head, "You'll have to make a very difficult decision sir," she murmured.

I swallowed hard and nodded, giving her a dismissive smile before turning back to stare at Becca. I heard the nurse rise and walk away, the door opening and a moment later it closed, leaving me in solitude with Becca and Natasha.

"I'm sorry I wasn't with her Mr. President. This is my fault," Natasha murmured from behind me, and I could hear the guilt choking her.

I shook my head, "No, it's the fault of whoever attacked her. We can't expect to be able to protect her all the time," I replied softly. I hadn't been able to for years, no matter how hard I tried, and it had pissed her off when I tried.

Becca wasn't the type of person who wanted to be protected; she wanted to help everyone else. She wanted to save the world, not be the damsel in distress.

"I promise I'm not going to leave her. I won't let anything happen to her again," Natasha promised softly, earnestly.

"Thank you Natasha," I replied faintly. "Can I be alone with her, please?" I asked, though it was less of a request and more an order.

She made a soft noise of consent and a moment later she exited the room quietly, leaving me in peace.

I stared at the white bandages wrapped around Becca's skull; protecting the holes they had drilled to relieve the pressure in her brain. Half her hair had been shaved off, leaving her head patchy and growing back oddly.

Her face was mottled with purple and green bruises, some yellowed around the edges. Her right arm and ribs were wrapped in bandages, holding her broken ribs together, ensuring that they wouldn't puncture her lung again.

Gently I lifted her hand to my mouth, brushing her knuckles softly against my lips, exhaling slowly, my eyes drifting shut as I breathed in the scent of her skin. "You gotta wake up baby, you gotta tell me who did this to you," I whispered roughly, emotion choking me.

Pressing her knuckles tighter against my lips I struggled to breathe, fighting the tears that burned in my chest, making each inhalation painful. Squeezing her hand tightly in mine I shuddered, trying to control my emotions, tears slipping out silently.

"P-please baby, _please_ ," I pled, my voice cracking.

A knock at the door made me jump, inhaling sharply and wiping at my cheeks as the door opened.

"Bass?"

Miles's deep voice was filled with concern and as I lowered Becca's hand he approached slowly, his steps heavy.

"We've got to go meet with the representatives from Texas," he murmured.

I nodded and stood slowly, giving Becca one last look before turning to face my best friend. I had shown him the note I had found, knowing he was the only person I could trust with the information, and we had decided that the best way to keep Becca safe was to keep Natasha at her side while we investigated who had attacked her.

Until Becca woke up, she would have a full time guard, keeping her safe and alive. If she never woke…

I shook my head infinitesimally, trying to rid myself of the thought.

She would wake up.

She had to.

\-------------------------------------------------------

The light had faded through the windows in my office and I found myself squinting, trying to read the documents that the Texas diplomats had left with us. A headache throbbed behind my eyes, reminding me that I hadn't slept well last night, or any night since Becca had been attacked for that matter.

Rubbing a palm into my sockets I groaned at the painful relief I felt, spots flashing behind my closed lids as I ground my hand into them. 

The Texans were offering a truce, if we helped with the Plains Nations, which I'd be happy to do, knowing that the Nations would nibble at our borders, provoking us both until we had to take action.

It would be in our best interest to ally ourselves against them and make sure we had them trapped on both sides with strong armed forces.

Sighing, I carefully began reading over the documents again, keeping an eye out for any legal wording or loopholes that could keep us vulnerable. This wasn't my strong area, usually Becca would have handled nearly the whole interaction, but with her incapacitated, it had fallen to Miles, myself, and her Senior Ambassador.

The man who occupied the Senior Ambassador's position was intelligent, capable, and at times very clever. He wasn't however, Becca. He didn't have her ingenuity or ability to see a problem five steps ahead and read a person like a book.

If we were going to keep forgoing a stronger Republic, we needed her.

My eyes grew heavy as I continued reading, the fire crackling pleasantly behind me, warming my back. Running a hand over my face I struggled to keep my eyes open, a yawn cracking my jaw and making my eyes water.

Leaning back in my chair I read through hooded eyes, growing wearier by the moment. My eyes slid shut, the honeyed warmth of drowsiness spreading through me. My hand thumped against my chest softly, the paper fluttering against my chin as I breathed, falling asleep hazily.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

A hand shook me awake roughly as a low feminine voice whispered in my ear urgently, "President Monroe! Wake up!"

I startled and coughed, looking around wildly for a moment until I found Dee at my side, her wide blue eyes staring down at me from where she stood by my shoulder. Instantly panic flooded me.

"What's wrong?" I demanded, my hand clamping down on her elbow, holding onto her as I stood, towering over her, "What happened to Becca?" I whispered.

Her hand covered mine and she smiled, her eyes warm, "It's alright President Monroe, she's jus wakin up," she murmured.

Shock shuddered through me and I stumbled away from her, my hand flailing out to rest on the mantle of the fireplace. Inhaling weakly I absently lifted a hand to my sternum, pressing down on the painful knot in my chest, turning away from Dee as I struggled to breathe normally.

After a moment I inhaled sharply and nodded, stepping away from the fireplace, striding rapidly out of my office and down the hall, trying not to run to Becca's room. My heart pounded harder as I approached the open door, my hopes soaring high.

As I stepped into the room I stuttered to a halt, my stomach sinking.

Becca was sitting up being examined by the doctor, her gaze confused and unfocused. Glancing over to where Miles stood at the foot of her bed I nodded sharply at him and when he strode over I whispered, "How's she doing?"

He shook his head, giving me a serious, worried look. "She seems out of it. She's having a hard time following the doctor's questions and her speech seems slurred. She didn't know who I was," he confided.

Fear slipped through me, icy and nauseating.

This was worse than I had even dreamt it could be.

Her dazed eyes met mine and I smiled, putting every ounce of love and warmth I could into it. Confusion and hesitation flared in her eyes and she turned her gaze back to the doctor, murmuring something too soft for me to hear.

Turning abruptly away from her I stared at the wall, my stomach clenching so hard I thought I would be sick.

"What did they do to her Miles?" I whispered, my voice raw as I balled my hands into fists, eager for someone to punish for this.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shake his head, "I don't know man. But the doctors are going to do everything they can, you know that."

I nodded and dropped my chin, looking away from his gaze as I struggled against the flood of emotions. His hand landed on my shoulder and I jerked under his touch, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

"W-what do I do for her Miles?" I whispered, my voice cracking as I fought the urge to weep.

"You keep showing up," he murmured, his hand squeezing my shoulder firmly, lending me his strength. I lifted my gaze up to his and saw the sorrow in his eyes and instantly understood just how deeply he felt this loss-Becca was like a sister to him and just as I needed him, he needed me.

Wrapping my arm around his, I clamped my hand onto his shoulder and gave him a weak smile, "We'll both keep showing up," I murmured.

His eyes warmed and he nodded, shaking my shoulder softly, "You got it brother," he affirmed.

I exhaled a little easier and turned back to watch as the doctor continued his assessment of Becca, my heart aching.

It appeared she had a long road of recovery ahead, and would need us both for every step. I wasn't going to back away like I had before, not when the Republic needed her so badly…not when I loved her so much.

I was going to fight for her.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

"The attack was carefully planned and there were no witnesses."

"You're sure?"

"Very. We have confirmation that she has woken up, but remembers nothing. We'll need to alert the leaders offshore so further plans can be made."

"Agreed. God Bless the United States of America."

"God Bless the United States of America."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

_**AN: WHAAAT! Red herring with Tom Neville! Patriots attacked Becca! :D This chapter was a bitch to write man, and I'm sorry it's taken so long to update, but I had to edit hardcore. I hope you enjoy it and please, review! Thank you as always for reading!** _


	22. Valentine's Day

**February 11th, 2017**

"Okay you're doing great, now take that right foot and step forward…yea just like that. Good, good, you're doing great."

I watched Becca from the doorway as she struggled through her physical therapy, her face white from pain, two spots of red high on her cheeks from exertion. Her face wrinkled with agony as she took hesitating steps forward, sweat beading down her brow.

She had been fighting and struggling through her recovery since she had woken up three weeks earlier, each moment an effort that left her both tired and marginally stronger each day. In the first few hours of her wakening the doctors had realized that she had a mild form of aphasia; when she had seemed able to recognize items or people but had been unable to name them they had realized the problem immediately.

With therapy she seemed to be growing stronger; her ability to walk steadily was improving and her sense of humor was returning. She remembered who Miles and I were, though she struggled to remember the nature of our relationship—according to her there were still patchy areas in her memory.

The doctors said it was possible these holes would resolve themselves, or wouldn't. They weren't experts in the brain, and they could only offer the barest of hopes.

"Do I get a shot of whiskey for going around the track three times today Carlos?" Becca asked wryly, her voice ragged with exertion, but a glint of mischief gleamed in her eyes as she smirked faintly at the physical therapist at her side.

"If you go a fourth time around and gimme a kiss when you're done, you got it princessa," Carlos replied, his green eyes twinkling with good humor.

Becca laughed and shook her head, her shoulders tight as she began moving around the track a fourth time. "I don't think your novio would like it if I kissed you, eh cabron?" she teased breathlessly.

I smirked as their teasing continued, Carlos easily distracting her from the pain of another round on the track. When she finished he stepped forward and guided her into a wheelchair, glancing over at me so quick I would have missed it if I hadn't been looking for it.

It was our signal and had been worked out over the past weeks as Becca grew used to Miles and I showing up at her room to take her to and from the physical therapy sessions. Slowly I walked over, watching as Becca reclined against frame of the chair, her eyes framed by dark circles of exhaustion and lines of pain.

Her recovery wasn't easy or painless and every step came with shocks; she had recalled quite violently the moment her friend Joe had died just a week ago, and two days ago she had looked up at me and asked me who Shelley was.

We spent hours talking, sometimes just her and I, other times her, Miles and I, trying to explain the last years; but it always seemed like something in her was lost; as though some essential piece that made her _my_ Becca was gone, or still missing.

I didn't know how to find that piece or how to help her, other than to keep showing up. She seemed as frustrated as Miles and I were—she could tell that her memories weren't complete and she told me she knew that we had something special, but she didn't connect with it yet.

It frustrated me to no end to know that it wasn't like some switch we could flip, to turn her back into the person she had been. It would be so much easier if that was how it was, but that apparently wasn't how the brain worked.

I smiled amiably at her and rested my hands on the handles of the wheelchair, bending down slightly to speak to her, "Ready for dinner?" I asked softly, knowing she was usually hungry after her physio.

She sighed heavily and nodded, leaning her head against my left hand, her eyes drifting shut. My eyes widened momentarily in surprise before I cleared my throat and smiled at Carlos and nodded appreciatively at him and began wheeling her down the hall.

The basement of Independence Hall had been converted into a physical therapy area for Becca and ramps had been laid down as soon as we had realized the area wasn't handicap accessible and would need to be since she couldn't walk.

Slowly we moved down the hallways, Becca's head resting against my hand, her eyes still shut. Her temple was damp where it touched against the skin of my hand and I worried she had overexerted herself.

"Are you feeling alright?" I murmured, peering down at her as we rose to the second floor where her room was.

She had been moved back to her original rooms—a move I had wanted to object, but since she couldn't remember living with me, loving me, it was too awkward to try and force the subject of her living with me as she recovered.

"Just tired…I…"she paused and sighed heavily and I glanced down at her, worry shooting through me.

"You what?" I prompted.

"I didn't sleep well last night," she confided.

I pushed the wheelchair into her room and helped her stand, guiding her onto the bed and back against the pile of pillows, frowning at her, "Why not?" I demanded as gently as possible.

She shrugged and winced, her body was obviously sore from physio, but her ribs were still tender and after physio she needed a hot bath to ease away the aches. "I had nightmares," she murmured, leaning back against the pillows, her eyes drifting shut.

I waved a hand to the servant waiting outside, directing him to go and get hot water for a bath and a hot meal for both of us. I would eat in my office, but Becca would need food, and soon.

Turning back to glance at her I frowned, my brows furrowing at the sight of her pale face. "What did you dream about?" I prompted.

She shook her head, "I'm not…" she paused and opened her eyes, her gaze meeting mine, and I saw hesitation there. "I think it was someone you knew…" she hesitated again and I realized who she was talking about.

"Shelley," I murmured.

She nodded, relief spreading across her face as I confirmed her memory. The sound of Shelley's name didn't pain me as much as it used to, and that surprised me. I guess the more present fear of losing Becca had taken the place of the pain of losing Shelley and our baby.

I would never fully recover the loss of them, but now that I had Becca, I had someone else to worry about.

"I dreamt about her being pregnant. She asked me to help her give birth and instead…" she paused and looked up at me, her eyes shady with confusion. "I stabbed her," she whispered.

Sighing, I shook my head, "You didn't do that. You tried to save her and my daughter. It was too late for them both and they died. You brought my daughter to me so I could see her and name her," I confided, my throat growing thick with emotion at the memory.

Her dark eyes flooded with tears and she wiped at them hastily, "I-but… _why_ do you want me around? If I remind you of that?" she asked softly.

I shook my head and swallowed hard, "Becca, no…" I struggled around the lump in my throat for a moment and then continued, "You remind me that I survived that, and I only did that with _your_ help. I would have killed myself without you," I told her softly.

Her eyes widened and I heard her breath stutter at the weight of my confession. We stared at each other for a long moment, the depth of the unspoken thoughts between us growing.

"You…you call me…"her brow furrowed as she tried to recall what pet name it was I used for her and my heart leapt at the thought that she was making these neural connections and placing an emotional connection to them.

I held my breath as she struggled, not wanting to supply her with the answer unless I had to.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, searching for the word.

" _Baby_ "

My heart stuttered and I gripped the arms of the chair I was sitting in, trying to keep myself from leaping up and sweeping her into my arms. Instead I nodded, my eyes blurring for a moment with a rush of emotion, "That's right," I whispered, smiling lovingly at her.

She smiled softly, hesitantly, and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.

The door abruptly burst open, servants arriving with hot water for her bath and a tray full of food. Leaning back in my chair I watched as they filled the tub and Becca ate rapidly, decorum long set aside between us after her first physio session ended in tears and vomiting from the pain.

As she finished eating I stood and went to her side, lifting the tray from her lap, smiling faintly, remembering the last time we had shared a meal together in bed. Her gaze lifted to mine and to my surprise her cheeks flushed before she glanced away.

Did she remember?

Setting the tray on the nearby dresser I turned back and found her gaze resting on me, an assessing look in her eyes. Smirking at her gently I leaned against the wall by the bed, forearm propped against the wall and my other hand tucked into my waistband, watching her as I stared down into her eyes.

"You're a lot easier to boss around like this," I murmured.

"Don't get used to it," she instantly snapped back, her eyes flashing with sharp laughter.

Chuckling softly I reached out and cupped her chin, rubbing my thumb along her jaw gently. Her eyes widened at I sighed, pulling away slowly.

"Wouldn't dream of it. You're too stubborn to let me boss you around," I countered softly, winking at her.

She laughed as the door behind me opened and a moment later I heard the familiar footsteps of Natasha entering the room.

"Evening Becca, you ready for your bath?" she asked politely.

Becca nodded and a moment later Natasha appeared at my side, gently nudging me out of the way so she could help Becca undress and bathe. It was a task I would have gladly handled, but with Becca's memories so in flux, I wouldn't risk upsetting her.

Stepping away I carefully backed away and smiled at Becca as I shut the door, "See you later baby," I murmured.

Her eyes darted up to mine and as I closed the door I saw her lips curl into a soft smile.

\------------------------------------------------------

**February 12th, 2017**

Tugging the ball cap lower over my eyes, I pushed the sunglasses up my nose and walked slowly down the street, peering at the wares offered by the various shop fronts, frustration making my jaw clench.

Valentine's Day was only two days away, and I didn't have anything for Becca yet. I wasn't even sure what to get her at this point…her memories were still jumbled and her ability to walk on her own was slowly improving, but she still seemed interested in some of her old pursuits—reading, riding Beda, and practicing her Russian.

Turning down a side street I paused at the sight of a bookstore, a slow smile curling up my lips. Pushing open the door I stepped inside and nodded stiffly to the proprietor, walking quietly through the stacks, examining the spines of the books.

Turning the corner I found myself facing the cashier and hesitated, not wanting to reveal myself, but knowing I needed assistance with what I wanted. Sighing, I stepped forward and cleared my throat, smiling tightly when the man at the counter glanced up at me, his brow furrowing behind his wire framed glasses.

"What can I help you with sir?" he murmured.

"Do you have any books in Russian?" I asked, "Novels I mean," I explained.

He thought for a moment and then nodded, stepping out from behind the counter, waving a hand for me to follow him. We walked towards the back of the shop, through a caged metal door and into a room where the books lined the walls.

The proprietor turned to the back wall and pointed, "These are all Russian," he waved a hand to the other walls, "These are Spanish, Dutch, Italian and French," he explained.

I nodded and stepped forward, searching through the spines until I found what I was looking for. Lifting the books from the shelf I turned to the man and nodded, "I'll take these," I murmured. He nodded and carried them to the register, writing up totals before ringing it up.

I quickly handed over the pieces of gold and took the books the man had wrapped in brown paper, tucking them under my arm. Walking slowly down the streets I watched as the citizens of our Republic went about their lives, haggling for food, laughing and talking happily.

What they needed, what we all needed, was for Becca to continue to get better. The Republic needed her just as much as I did, probably more.

I paused and turned back, heading for another shop I had passed, heading inside for one last gift.

\---------------------------------------------------------

**February 14th, 2017**

Nervously I ran a hand through my hair, glancing down at the table where dinner was laid out and candles were lit, casting a warm glow on the room. I had asked Becca that morning if she would have dinner with me tonight, and a bright smile had spread across her face filled with warmth and eagerness.

Now as I waited for her to appear in the small dining room adjacent to my suite of rooms, my stomach twisted anxiously, wondering if she was coming just to humor me, if she was just doing it to be kind or if perhaps she was starting to remember our life together.

The door to the dining room creaked open and I turned expectantly, my stomach flopping restlessly.

The soft candlelight lit her cheeks with a gentle golden glow, burnishing them lightly and chasing away the dark circles that had been resting under her eyes for the past weeks. A flush rose in her cheeks as I continued to study her, her eyes darting away as she approached.

I quickly stepped forward and pulled out her chair, my gaze flitting over the dark navy dress she was wearing. She so rarely dressed up it was a shock to see her in something so…elegant. The material was silky looking and clung to her curves, the neckline dipping low to reveal the smattering of freckles that dotted her breasts, the ones that I had always found so distracting.

She had somehow curled her hair into soft waves, and as I leaned down to push her chair in I could smell some kind of perfume that made me want to kiss the tender skin of her neck. Instead, I stepped away and smiled nervously at her as I reached for the bottle of wine.

"Would you like a glass?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from wavering.

She nodded and pushed her hair back over her shoulder, "Please," she murmured.

Quickly I poured us both glasses and sat, smiling faintly at her. I don't know why I felt so fucking nervous. I had known this woman for close to five years now, so why did it feel like we were on a first date?

Clearing my throat nervously I smiled at Becca, "How did your therapy go today?" I asked politely, silently cursing myself for the inane question.

Her smile faltered for a moment and then brightened, "It was fine. Normal. I'm uh, doing better. I rode…" her smile dulled as she struggled with her words. She searched my face, her brow furrowing, "my horse…"she murmured.

"Beda," I supplied, smiling wryly, "It means trouble in Russian," I told her with a soft laugh.

She nodded and a look of recognition passed her face, "Because we're both troublesome," she murmured, her eyes lighting with amusement.

"The worst kind," I teased, sipping on my wine, flirting with her over the rim of my glass.

Her laugh was low and velvety as she lifted the cover to her plate, inhaling the scent of her food. We talked softly as we ate, the conversation halting at points as Becca searched for words, her brow furrowing in frustration.

"We…you…I," she trailed off, looking frustrated.

I stared at her, watching the light play off the honey highlights in her hair and the darker, almost midnight coloring and sighed, reaching out to lay my hand on top of hers. "We've been together, you, me, and Miles, for almost five years," I explained.

"You've been our Policy Advisor, Chief of Staff, Ambassador…everything, for nearly that long. You've kept this Republic going and made it what it is when we didn't even realize what it needed."

"I've loved you for longer than I realized," I murmured, squeezing her hand.

I watched as her eyes widened at my words, her pulse thrumming in her throat. I bit my tongue, waiting for her to say something, knowing that I couldn't say anything else for fear of scaring her.

Becca swallowed hard and her hand twisted in mine to wrap her fingers around mine, "Ty moya lyubov'" she whispered.

I laughed and shook my head, "I don't speak Russian baby," I reminded her.

She grinned, "You should look it up," she murmured.

"Maybe you can start teaching me," I replied softly, smiling warmly at her. Her fingers tightened around mine and my heart thumped harder against my ribs.

"I'd like that," she whispered, smiling fondly at my.

I leaned down at lifted the small pile of presents I had bought for her from beside my feet and laid them next to our conjoined hands, flushing softly at the look of pleasure on her face.

"I got these for you, I-I hope you like them," I murmured. "Happy Valentines Day."

She blushed and retracted her hand from mine, slowly unwrapping the books, a look of excited apprehension on her face. When the paper slid away a low pleased sigh escaped her.

"You got me Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov…"she paused and ran a finger over the spines, "and they're first editions," she breathed. Her eyes flitted up to mine and I saw joy shining there, something I hadn't seen in weeks.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I nodded and pointed to the last package, smaller and containing something far more precious. "That one…hold on to it. Don't open it until you feel like you remember you and me, until you feel you know _us,_ " I murmured.

She stared at me for a long moment and then nodded, slipping the small package inside the cover of Crime and Punishment without a word. Her fingers traced over the cover of the book for a moment before she stood, gathering the books in her arms, smiling at me unsteadily.

I quickly rose, my heart thumping.

"Walk me to my room?" she asked softly.

I nodded and gently laid a hand on her lower back, my palm burning where it met the fabric of her dress. She brushed absently at her hair, releasing more of whatever scent she had sprayed on and I bit my cheek to keep from groaning, wanting to bury my face in her hair and wrap my hands around her waist.

_Christ_

All too soon we were at her door and she turned to face me, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes sparkling as she peered up at me. I leaned against the doorframe, my body just inches from hers, my hand resting gently on her waist, having softly slipped from her back.

"Thank you for dinner," Becca murmured, smiling softly at me. "A-and for the presents," she stuttered, brushing awkwardly at her cheek, swiping her hair back from her face.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you liked them," I replied softly, squeezing her hip. She flushed and glanced away and I could see her pulse thrumming in her throat.

A moment later her hands were winding around my neck and her lips were pressing against mine, warm and tasting of bittersweet wine, cherries and oak. I sighed in surprise and wrapped my hands around her waist, the familiarity of this moment flooding through me.

Her fingers slid through my hair and tugged on it gently, eliciting a soft groan from me. I pulled her more firmly against me and inhaled deeply, feeling her scent invade my senses. A breath later she pulled away and slid back down onto the flats of her feet, her palms resting against my chest.

"Happy….Valentine's Day," she whispered disjointedly before turning and shutting her door behind her.

I turned away, rubbing a hand over my mouth absently, wondering why Becca had kissed me and if it had meant as much to her as it did to me. As I turned back into my room I paused, wondering what the phrase she had murmured in Russian had meant.

Quickly I went to the small stack of books I had bought from the bookstore and flipped through the Russian/English dictionary I had purchased. Becca sometimes muttered little phrases in Russian when she was angry or wanted to make a snarky remark and I wanted to know what she was saying.

Slowly I flipped through the pages, searching out the words she had used.

_"_ _Ty moya lyubov'"_ … _You're my love  
_


	23. Fight for Me

**February 20** **th** **, 2017**

"Are you sure we should be doing this ma'am?"

I sighed and shifted forward in my saddle, trying to find my balance as Beda trotted down the street, carrying me away from the Capitol building. Since my attack I had found riding, and a thousand other things, difficult.

My balance was interrupted at the worst moments by attacks of vertigo, leaving me clutching onto a solid surface until the moment passed, but when I was astride a horse the attacks lasted longer.

Glancing over at Natasha I smiled faintly, knowing she was only asking out of concern. It was because of her diligence that I was even alive. If she hadn't followed me to my office I wouldn't have been found for another ten minutes and would have died.

Bass joked about making her Commanding General instead of Miles, but I don't think he knew what to do to thank her. No one knew what to do with me, really.

I wasn't sure either.

Every day was a damn struggle.

After the brain trauma I had suffered I had needed to learn how to walk again and my speech had been slurred for weeks, aphasia had taken my ability to connect images with words, and even now vertigo took my ability to walk or ride.

I knew that Bass and I belonged together, finally. When I had first woken up from my coma his face and Miles's were foggy, familiar in the way of a dream. I could barely speak and was weaker than a kitten, easily upset.

Even thinking on it now I felt a lump form in my throat, anger at my own damaged and broken body's betrayal surging once again. Swallowing hard I stared down at Beda's powerful neck, her hair looking almost coppery in the bright sun.

I practiced squeezing my calves against her, using muscles that had grown weak while I rested and relearned how to walk. My beautiful girl happily trotted forward and I smiled softly, patting her neck and crooned soft words of approval, laughing when she nickered and turned her head back, as if to encourage me as well.

"You two are thick as thieves," Natasha said, laughing softly.

I nodded and glanced over at her, smiling softly. "It's nice to be riding again, thank you for sneaking me out Nat," I said, smiling at her gratefully. Bass and Miles had been watching over me so carefully it was hard to get away from either of them, let alone the doctors and nurses.

For so long Bass had looked at me like I was shattered, his eyes shadowed, even as he smiled at me, his hands gentle as he helped me walk or dress or eat.

The weakness it made me feel angered me; made me angry at him for stealing the little strength I had to fight for each day and making each accomplishment feel like it was no more than a baby blowing spit bubbles.

Miles could barely look at me when he first started coming to see me; his guilt was so palpable I could taste it in the air. When you can barely remember the names of the men who are supposed to be your lover and best friend, that's a lot of emotion to lay at someone's feet.

Natasha remained at my side through it all, her silence and strength a reliable rock I could drag myself onto when everyone else's emotions became a vast undertow that threatened to suck me under into an ocean I didn't understand and didn't have the strength yet to swim in.

As I grew stronger and began to remember more, I asked her to take me for walks around the building, then out into the streets, then down to the stables where Beda was. Now that I had my strength back in my legs to a greater degree I had managed to convince her to sneak me away for daily rides.

The doctors disapproved and threatened to tell Bass.

I told them if they wanted to remain my doctors, and alive, that probably wasn't a good idea.

I wouldn't do anything to them, but I couldn't vouch for Bass.

I knew Natasha was uncomfortable with sneaking me out for rides, especially with my vertigo, but I also knew that I was safe in her presence. I also knew that I needed time away from the Capitol building.

After my Valentine's dinner with Bass and our kiss, he had grown more insistent that I rest, get strong, and not strain myself with work relating to the Republic. My brow furrowed, recalling our last argument.

_"_ _I'd just like to see what's been happening while I was in a coma. I didn't think it was that outrageous of a request," I remarked, frustration making my voice sharp._

_Bass shook his head, "You don't have to worry about it. Miles and I have it handled. I promise. I just want you to rest and get strong," he replied tiredly, his eyes warm with affection as he looked up at me from where he sat behind his desk._

_It was a goddamn power move, him refusing to get up and making me feel like just another citizen asking the President for a favor. My eyes narrowed in annoyance and I stepped forward to lay my hands on his desk, crowding into his space._

_His eyes widened in surprise and I smirked, one corner of my lips turning up._

_"_ _Sebastian. You can't do my job. It's why it's my job. Send me the papers," I murmured, the threat clear in my voice._

_It was his turn to narrow his eyes at me, "And if I don't?" he demanded softly._

_I leaned further in, my cheek brushing against his as my lips found his ear, "You will," I whispered, feeling him shiver against me as I smirked and pulled away, turning and walking away before he had the chance to refute me._

Still…he hadn't sent the papers. It had been two days and he had ignored my request. He thought perhaps that I would back down, that I didn't have the strength to fight him on this. I set my jaw and shook my head, nudging Beda into a canter.

There was a Cabinet Meeting this afternoon, and Bass most likely thought I was going to be in physical therapy or some psychologist's office. I smirked and began guiding Beda back towards the city, leaning lower over her neck, letting the cool air slap me in the face as she cantered happily.

"Come on girl, we've got a meeting to get to," I murmured, grinning.

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"Ma'am, are you sure _this_ is a good idea?" Nat asked softly as I walked down the halls, trying to disguise the exhaustion I was feeling with a confident swagger. I knew I wasn't fooling her if she was asking me that, and I glanced up at the taller woman, smiling tiredly.

"Probably not Nat, but I'll be damned if Bass is going to shut me out of my own job," I murmured.

She sighed and shook her head, "Becca, you suffered a brain injury and bodily injury that you're still recovering from, don't you think he has a right to be concerned about your ability to do the job?" she asked reasonably.

I nodded and paused outside the Cabinet Meeting room, "But neither of us will ever know if I _can_ do this or if it's too soon unless I try," I replied softly before turning away and shoving the door open, interrupting the meeting.

All eyes turned to me and a low murmur ran around the table.

I inspected each face, looking for some sign of guilt, some indication that the person who had attacked me was sitting here among my peers and my gaze rested longest on Tom Neville, but there was nothing in any of their faces to tell me anything other than that they were genuinely surprised to see me.

Bass rose from the head of the table, his face thunderous. 

 

"Ambassador Flynn, we weren't expecting you," he murmured, his voice dangerously pleasant. He was warning me; if I made a scene, I could lose a lot more than my job.

I met his eyes and nodded, "The best surprises are usually the ones you don't expect," I lobbed back and a low snort came from my left; Miles. My gaze darted to his and he nodded at me, giving his silent support.

"We were in the middle of a Cabinet Meeting. Perhaps it would be better if I briefed you on the details after," Bass replied firmly, trying to urge me out of the room as politely as possible.

I smiled sharply and stepped forward, going to the empty chair at his right, my chair, and pulled it out so I could sit down. I could see his fingers curling around the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles were white and his throat worked hard, fighting back a shout.

"That's not necessary President Monroe, I'm happy to sit through the end and give my advice where I can. I'm just getting back into the swing of things, so perhaps I can meet with the Cabinet leaders one on one throughout this week, if you're all amenable?" I asked, turning to smile at my colleagues, effectively ignoring Bass, who I knew was glowering at my back.

I could see their expressions, varying from impressed to amused as they nodded and I quickly turned back to Bass, giving him a satisfied smile, "There we go! Now, why don't we resume the meeting? I'm sure everyone here is eager to get this over with, if I remember correctly, they don't go well on the best of days," I joked, smiling benignly at the group around the table.

A chuckle spread and heads bobbed; people began to chatter softly. Bass and I met each other's eyes and I could see it in his eyes-a blaze of anger so bright it looked like his eyes were shining from within.

He slowly released the table and sank back into his chair, the action catching the attention of the Cabinet, and a moment later the meeting resumed.

This fight wasn't over, I knew. Not by a long shot.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

As the Cabinet members filed out of the room I patiently remained seated at the table, looking through the papers people had left with me for review, ignoring the angry, heated looks Bass was throwing my way as he talked softly with Cabinet members.

When the room had emptied of just Bass, Miles and myself I heard the door slam shut and boots echoing loudly across the floor before my chair abruptly spun away from the table, Bass looming over me, his blue eyes as overcast as a lightning storm.

His hands clamped down on the arms of the chair, caging me in, and I could feel his anger seething out.

"What the hell do you think _that_ was?" he demanded, his voice barely a whisper.

I leaned forward, crowding him back. "Me. Doing my job. Like I told you I could. Better than you can. Like I told you I can," I murmured archly.

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head, "You've been going out riding with Natasha, Becca."

I stared at him for a moment, contemplating how he could know. Natasha wouldn't tell him. She was _my_ security, she reported to me in everything, the only time she hadn't was when I was in a coma, and even then I trusted her to keep my secrets and agendas—short of the killing me.

That left the stable hands. I probably hadn't bribed them enough.

_Shit_

I nodded and crossed a leg over the other, leaning back to appear as casual as possible. "And?" I asked, lifting an insolent brow at him.

Bass abruptly pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he paced, his gaze darting away and back to me, " _AND?_ And you could have been killed! You're still recovering! You have bouts of vertigo! How do you even sit a horse?" he demanded.

I glanced over at Miles who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else and turned my gaze back to Bass, smirking faintly. "Very carefully," I murmured.

Bass sputtered and tossed up his hands, "I-I don't even know what to do with you!" he declared, sounding fed up.

In one large leap I was up out of the chair, bounding to step in front of him, my eyes narrowed dangerously, my hand shoving his shoulder so he stumbled back and his shoulders banged off the mantle of the fireplace.

"You don't need to _do_ a damn thing Sebastian. I'm not asking you for anything anymore, because I'm a fucking adult. If I want to do my job, I'm going to show up and _do it._ If I want to ride my horse, I'm going to ride her. If I want to go for a walk, I'll do it. You are not my father, my husband, my owner, my _anything_. You don't get to control what I do!" I shouted, my frustration from the past weeks boiling over.

Hurt spasmed over his face and he collapsed against the wall, his hands softening at his sides from hard fists into limp, clutching things that hung uselessly.

I heard the door shut behind us and knew that Miles had made his escape, leaving us to cut each other to pieces.

"I'm not your _anything_?" he whispered, his gaze questioning. "What happened to _Ty moya lyubov'"_ he whispered, his voice raw and shaky.

I flinched away this time, regret flooding me. I avoided his gaze, staring instead down at the dark hardwood.

"I was telling you something I remembered," I whispered, the lie burning on my tongue. I glanced back up at him and saw it blazing into him too, searing away at his trust in me.

"You're a liar Becca," he whispered hoarsely and my eyes popped up to his face, hope blazing through me. "You're too goddamn stubborn for your own good, and you refuse to give an inch when all I'm asking for is a fucking millimeter!" he snapped, tossing a hand up in frustration.

My spine straightened and I felt fire racing through my veins. "Too stubborn? You're a good one to talk! I'm constantly fighting you for every choice I make! You make me feel like I need to apologize for _everything_ , and it's not healthy _President Monroe_ ," I snarled.

Bass pushed himself away from the wall, his full height towering over me, but I felt no fear or intimidation, only the urge to fight back. I was so tired of playing his games.

"You want me to be a good little girl and sit at home, letting you rule like some demented king while I recover, but that's not going to happen. Face it Sebastian, you need me, you've always needed me, and you can't stand it!" I hissed at him, poking him in the chest, my face turned up to his, my eyes glowing with righteous anger.

His larger hand clamped down around my finger and yanked, pulling me against his chest, his mouth abruptly swooping down to slam against mine. His lips were bruising as I struggled away, anger flooding me.

He broke away and his chest heaved against mine as he glared at me, "Don't _you_ get it Becca?" he whispered, "I know I need you. I can't stand the thought of losing you. I'd do anything to protect you, and I just want you to think of your health! I'm perfectly capable of running this Republic while you get your strength back, if you'd just trust me," he insisted.

I heaved out a heavy breath and leaned my head against his chest, annoyance and amusement filling me, my anger draining away slowly. How in the hell had I fallen in love with this pain in the ass?

"I don't want to just sit around doing nothing but physio and listening to psyche doctors though Sebastian. I want to do my job. I want to be _me_ ," I whispered, my voice slightly muffled against his chest.

I lifted my gaze up to his face and met his eyes, "You're asking me to stop being me, and we both know that's not going to happen. So can you meet me halfway?" I asked softly.

His fingers were warm where they curled around my elbows, holding me close, and his breath blew in shallow pants across my face, softly tinged with the scent of mint and tobacco—still sneaking the occasional cigarette I see, I thought.

He nodded slowly and his fingers curled tighter around my arms, pulling me closer, his eyes intent on my face—so blue they looked like the sky after a day of rain. "Keep your meetings with the Cabinet members short and don't stay up all hours of the night working and you have a deal," he murmured.

I chuckled softly and shook my head, "What are you going to do for me?" I murmured softly, teasingly.

Bass huffed out a breath impatiently and shook his head, eyeing me with pained amusement. "I'm going to give you whatever it is you have in mind," he replied, "since that seems to be the only safe answer here."

I smirked and nodded, "You're a smarter man than you look," I teased and laughed at his affronted look, chuckling harder when his arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me off my feet, a low rumble of laughter echoing through his chest.

"Oh _really_?" he murmured against my ear, "and does everyone feel this way?" he asked as he pulled away, smirking down at me, his arms tight around my waist.

I grinned and wound my arms around his neck, "There is talk that your pretty face got you this far," I confided, giving him a look of false concern.

He shook his head in mock sorrow and his eyes sparkled with amusement, looking like two brilliant pieces of gemstone, warm with joy. "It's a good thing you don't have that problem," he whispered, laughing boisterously when I wriggled in his arms, slapping his chest and calling him an ass.

His fingers curled around my wrist and I allowed him to pull me back against his chest, watching as his face softened with affection and a touch of wariness. His free hand came up to brush against my cheek and he shook his head, his throat working hard for a moment.

"I've never meant to hurt you Becca. I love you so much it hurts. I don't want to keep doing this with you," he confided. I opened my mouth to speak and he shook his head, "Just-just let me finish," he whispered.

I nodded and he swallowed, "You could have anything you want, and you don't even know it. I'd burn down the Republic for you. It kills me to hurt you, and you don't even know what you do to me, the-the _pain_ you wreak on every goddamn inch of me with just one look."

I shook my head and reached up to cup his cheek, my heart aching at his words, but he smiled softly at me and shook his head, "No baby, you don't get it, I love it. I love you, and I'll take whatever you dish out, because all I want is you."

My breath hiccoughed in my chest and my eyes watered as he spoke and I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. Bass paused and smiled brighter, "Just promise you'll do what the doctors recommend, and I won't say word one about you doing what you want," he murmured.

A surprised laugh bubbled out of me and I nodded eagerly, wiping at my eyes, "Okay baby, okay," I whispered.

His arms were around me a moment later and I could feel relief in every line of his body, could feel his hands trembling at the small of my back and the shaky breaths that skated across my neck.

He really was afraid he would lose me.

I clutched him tighter, wordlessly trying to assure him of what was right between his hands.

"I'm right here."

\-------------------------------------------------

_**AN: I was supposed to update other stories and then this chapter happened. I wanted to switch back to Becca's POV, and unexpectedly I found out that she's pissed. Because hey, Bass is treating her like glass, and that's just not what our girl needs. So more to follow, after some other updates in other stories. Thank you for reading, please, please review!** _


	24. Distance

**September 17** **th** **, 2019**

The sun set slowly over the horizon and I frowned as I watched it, contemplating all the things I still had to do before I got to take a small vacation. Another skirmish with the Georgia Federation had broken out this week and Miles was out handling the militia as they defended our borders.

Bass was in his office, writing conscription notices to the outlying areas of the Republic, informing them that any man or woman between the ages of 18-40 would be conscripted into the militia.

I sighed heavily at the thought of all the families about to lose children, fathers, mothers…and on it went. I had fought tooth and nail against the conscription, offering tax breaks and land instead for volunteers, but the idea hadn't won over the Miles or Bass.

It was frustrating, fighting with them on this issue, especially when I disagreed so vehemently with how they planned on initiating growth in the militia. According to Bass it wasn't a policy issue (wrong), so I shouldn't be concerned.

Man had I kicked his ass over that comment.

I shook my head and smirked softly, recalling the shouting match we had gotten into during the last council hearing. We hadn't spoken for a day afterwards and when we finally did it spawned yet another argument.

The last two years had been rough for Bass and I; after my attack I had struggled with regaining my memories, physical balance, and ability to focus. Frequent headaches had worried the doctors, but there was little they could do in the way of relief other than give me painkillers and check my blood pressure.

After a few months the headaches subsided and I began to feel like myself again, but I still struggled with flares of anger and sleeplessness. If I got three hours of sleep in a night I was lucky.

Most nights I went to bed with Bass and read files and signed paperwork until he fell asleep, only after which I eventually fell asleep, covered in pen marks and paper. It didn't matter how hard I worked during the day or how many hours I spent riding Beda or sparring with Bass, I never slept well.

After two years of this nonsense I had finally been convinced by Bass to take a break, go on a small vacation and just… _rest._ I had to admit, I was excited. Bass and I hadn't had a break or time to ourselves in more than a year.

Sighing softly I rose from the front steps of the capitol building and turned to go inside and pack. When Bass was finished with his conscription announcements our team of messengers and a group of militia escorts would accompany them to the outlying regions of the Republic.

I slowly packed my bag, lost in thought. I had hopes that this trip with Bass would give me time to rest and have some space from everything that had been happening in the Republic. More than that, I hoped it would give _us_ time together to just be ourselves again, to be happy.

It felt like it had been too long since we had been able to do that, to feel close. The emotional and physical distance that had grown between us as a result of my attack and the symptoms it caused weighed on me; the guilt making it harder to reconcile the empty feeling between us.

My fingers closed on a bundle of silk and lace, lingerie that had fallen out of use in the past six months. A knock at the door startled me into shoving the lingerie into my bag before hastily zipping it shut.

A moment later the door to our suite opened and I heard the distinctive tread of Bass's boots on the hardwood. A few steps later and I felt him behind me, his breath skating across my neck softly, sending a thrill through me that I had ignored for far too long.

When his arms slid around my waist I leaned back and sighed contentedly, letting my eyes close as I inhaled the scent of him—warm and slightly spicy, with an undertone of tobacco that let me know he was smoking again.

His lips pressed to my neck, softly, hesitantly and a flush of sorrow slid through me at his hesitance to touch me—we had been distant for far too long if he thought his affection would upset me.

"Are you ready for a vacation baby?" he whispered.

I hummed in reply and turned slowly in his arms, winding my fingers behind his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. His hands on my waist tightened and pulled me firmly against him, letting out a soft grunt of pleasure when my fingers curled through his hair, tugging softly.

The kiss grew deeper, more heated, until finally we parted, breathless. His eyes were hooded when he smiled down at me, his fingers resting on my hips where they had slid under my shirt. "Glad to see you're excited for some alone time," he joked, his breath warm on my cheek.

I smirked and nodded, "It's long overdue," I replied softly, running my fingers through his hair gently until his eyes drifted shut and a soft noise of pleasure rumbled in his chest.

Leaning in again I kissed him softly and murmured against his lips, "Come on, let's get going." He nodded and kissed me quickly again before slipping away and grabbing his bag, tossing it over his shoulder.

"Lead the way," he murmured, smiling softly at me. Smirking, I led the way out of the building and down to the stables where our horses were waiting, saddled and laden with supplies. We were travelling to Cape May for the next week, not including the two days it would take to travel there and back.

It was a long time to be away from the Capitol, considering both of us would be gone at the same time, but I just couldn't stand the idea of us drifting any further apart. If anyone needed us they would be able to send messengers and we could ride back in less than a day if we pushed the horses.

Bass and I tried not to worry about the possibilities and simply rode off into the night, leaving the Republic in the capable hands of the council.

An autumn chill blew and I shivered, eager to get to the solitude that awaited us.

\-----------------------------------------------

**September 18** **th** **, 2019**

The sky softened with the afternoon light as Bass and I unpacked in the B&B that had become our residence. The white cottage with a brick front walkway and large, airy rooms that looked out onto the ocean behind it was one of a few houses we had set up across the Republic as waystations for our travels and as getaways from the stress.

I stared out the window of the master suite, watching as an autumn storm rolled in, the sky darkening as thunder rumbled in the distance. Bass's hands slid around my waist from behind, holding me close as he nuzzled my neck.

"You wanna take a bath?" he asked softly, his voice warm with innuendo.

Smirking softly I nodded, "Let's have some wine while we're at it," I replied, half turning and kissing his throat. He made a soft noise of agreement before turning away and heading downstairs to light a fire and boil water.

After another minute of staring out at the ocean I sighed softly and went downstairs to open a bottle of wine, inhaling the bittersweet scent of cherries and plums in the red wine as I poured. Walking out to the large living area I smiled softly at Bass and handed him a glass of wine, tugging on his hand to pull him down on couch beside me.

 

His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest as I curled my feet under me. His lips brushed over my hair and I could feel him nuzzle his nose into it for a moment before he sighed and sipped his wine.

After taking a long sip of mine I sighed and tilted my chin up, staring at him. His bright blue eyes met mine after a few moments and his brows popped up in silent question.

"I'm sorry that I've been so distant," I murmured.

Bass shook his head immediately, "Babe, I know it was your head injury, I don't blame you," he replied urgently.

I frowned; I didn't believe him for a second. "Bass, I know it's been hard for you, you don't have to pretend like it hasn't been. My head injury caused a lot of changes for us and it's been incredible frustrating for me to not feel like myself. I pushed you away because I had trouble understanding who I was, not just in our relationship, but as a person."

Taking a deep breath I sat up a little so I could see his face better. "All I want is for us to be _us_ again. I'm tired of feeling alone at night and wishing that things were different without ever trying to fix them. I want us to be happy again baby," I murmured.

Bass sighed heavily and smiled sadly, "It's not all your fault Becca, I backed off hard when I realized you were going through something and I shouldn't have done that. I let you down by not being there for you better, and I should have apologized and made things right sooner."

I nodded gently and sighed, "I wish we had been able to find out who it was." Frowning, I shook my head, "Actually, I wish I had been able to remember _anything_ about the attack." I looked at him sharply, "It kills me that it's all just a blur," I told him.

Bass cupped my cheek and shook his head, "The doctors said it could come," he murmured softly.

Scoffing, I gave him a skeptical look, "You know it isn't going to. It's been two years babe, nothing more is going to come back," I said tightly.

Bass frowned softly and cupped his hand around my neck his thumb stroking softly against my skin. "Maybe, but let's be optimistic, huh?" he suggested.

I sighed and smiled faintly, "Of course."

After another few moments Bass rose and carried the boiling water in the large stock pot upstairs to the tub. I pulled the other off the fire in the dining room and hauled it upstairs as well, dumping it so that the tub was three quarters of the way full.

Bass carried the pots downstairs, leaving me to toss some extremely old lavender bath salts into the water before undressing. As I reclined back in the tub, the steam from the water curling the small tendrils of hair at my neck, I sipped on my wine and closed my eyes, determined to relax.

A few minutes later I could hear the sound of Bass's feet on the hardwood stairs. Cracking an eye open I smirked as he set the bottle of wine on the counter along with his glass. He caught my eye and wiggled his eyebrows before slowly stripping, laughing softly when I began to hum a sexy tune.

"Nudge up," he ordered, smirking down at me from beside the tub.

I slid forward and when he had settled in behind me, leaned back against his chest, sipping on my wine. Bass tapped his glass against mine, "To our first vacation," he murmured.

I chuckled, "And probably _only_."

He snorted and shook his head, "Let's not say that or it'll become true," he replied softly.

Nodding softly I sipped on my wine, simply enjoying the feel of Bass pressed against me. The way his hand curled around my hip and his fingers stroked against my skin sent little flames of desire burning through me.

It had been _far_ too long since we had made love…hell since we had done anything close to it. It made me sad to think about so instead I gulped the last of the wine in my glass and reached for the soap, intent on getting myself clean.

Bass reached out and plucked the soap from my hand, "Let me," he murmured. A moment later he was lathering a washcloth and running it in slow circles over my back. I hummed softly in pleasure, my head dropping forward as the tension that had build up over the last months(years really), slid away.

I lifted my knee as he slid the cloth over my hip and down to my knee before chuckling and leaning forward to slide it further down my calf. His lips pressed against my wet neck as he slid the cloth over my other leg, humming softly against my skin.

The rough fabric of the cloth brushed against my breasts, my nipples stiffening in pleasure at the sensation. A moment later the cloth had disappeared, leaving me bereft and aching for more. Turning, I snatched the cloth from him and began the same treatment on him, taking my time to cup his balls before lifting the fabric and squeezing it out over his head.

Laughing as he sputtered I shrieked when he splashed water into my face, soaking my hair and the floor around us. What ensued was nothing less than a battle that left the tub half empty, the water splashing all around the bathroom.

When we were both soaked and had finished the bottle of wine I collapsed against his chest, small puffs of laughter escaping me as I wound my arms around his neck, straddling his lap.

"You're such an asshole," I murmured jokingly, nipping at his neck softly.

"Hmmm, I don't disagree," he replied softly, running his hands over my back.

Sucking the skin of his neck between my teeth I smirked when he groaned and rolled his hips into mine, letting me feel his half hard cock.

My nails scrapped against his scalp as I placed open mouthed kisses to his throat, enjoying the way his hands gripped my hips like he was desperate, needy. I slowly rolled my hips into him and lifted my lips to his for a long, lingering kiss.

Heat spread through me as his hands slid from my waist to cup my breasts, running his thumbs over the nipples until I was panting in desire and rolling my hips against him harder, aching for his touch elsewhere.

Bass surprised me by standing, his hands grasping my ass as he stepped out of the tub and carried me to the bed in the suite. His large body hovered over mine as he laid me down, his fingers furrowing in my hair as he kissed me breathless.

His hips rolled against mine, his hardening cock brushing against my clit making me shiver with need. A breathless moment later he was trailing kisses down my throat and then lower, until his lips closed around my nipple.

His tongue laved over the stiffened peak, the warm sensation of pleasure flushing through me, each tug and lick setting my body on fire with need. When he had me whining and my breasts were heavy with a pained pleasure he abandoned them and kissed lower and lower until his mouth was hovering over where I needed it most.

He glanced up at me, his eyes hooded with desire. "I've missed this baby," he whispered hoarsely, a half smirk on his lips.

"Me too baby," I whispered, instinctively arching my hips up, seeking out his touch.

He laughed softly and leaned in, obliging me. His tongue swept over my folds, tasting the arousal before his lips closed over my clit, sucking on it gently. My thighs shuddered at the flood of sensation, a low whine escaping me.

Bass flicked his tongue against me, alternating between a quick and languid pace as he sucked, grunting softly when my fingers tugged on his curls.

"Ahh! Y-yes!" I gasped as he slid two fingers in me, curling and thrusting them until he found my g-spot and attacked it with fervor.

I clawed at the sheets and Bass's hair, tugging it to the point I knew I had to be hurting him but I couldn't stop. My entire body was trembling under Bass's touch, my throat hoarse from crying out in pleasure.

His caresses grew more insistent until I was shouting in pleasure and trembling at the edge, desperate for release.

"Please Bass…please!" I cried, caressing my breasts in an effort to come.

I could feel his growl against my clit and when he sucked particularly hard as his fingers rubbed within me, I came with a broken cry. Within moments Bass was at my lips, pressing a searing kiss to them, a low groan escaping him as I whined and thrashed under him.

I nipped at his jaw and rolled my hips into his, "I need you inside me," I gasped, moaning as his cock slid along my wetness.

He nodded sharply and grabbed my hips, yanking me up so my legs wrapped around his waist, his weeping tip teasing at my entrance. His bright eyes met mine and he gripped my thighs tighter, "I love you baby," he whispered before snapping his hips and plunging into me.

My head shot back at the sensation of his dick swelling within me, my hips shuddering with pleasure as he withdrew slowly. Once again his hips snapped forward and he filled me to the point I felt like crying in pleasure.

He continued this way until I was bucking against him, trying to urge him to go faster, pleas dropping from my lips on every breath. Even through the haze of pleasure I could see the concentration and control holding him tight.

My hand locked around his and his gaze tore from where he was plunging into me to meet my eyes.

"Harder baby…please," I gasped.

I could see when his control snapped; his eyes darkened with lust and a moment later he began thrusting into me, hard and fast. I kept my eyes locked on his as he moved, my body shuddering around him.

His fingers were so tight on me that it almost hurt, but the sweet pleasure of his cock slamming into me had me crying out in ecstasy. When Bass sat back on his heels and pulled me up onto his lap I swore as he slid deeper, his cock twitching within me.

My arms wound around his neck as he resumed thrusting roughly into me, my hips twisting and circling to meet his. His mouth landed near my ear and I could hear him swearing and muttering, his soft groans of my name making me ache for him.

"You're so tight baby, so _wet_ ," he snarled, slamming into me harder.

I whimpered and gave as good as I got. "Your dick is so good…uhhh yea baby, fuck me!"

"You're so loud for me baby," he gasped, palming my ass. "You like it like this?" he demanded.

I nodded weakly and gasped when he thrust harder, "Let me hear you," he ordered.

"Y-yes! I need it like this!"

His fingers crept between us and began circling on my clit, drawing a sharp gasp from me. I knew we were being loud and I could feel the bed shaking under us but I didn't care, all I wanted was to feel him lose all control.

Wrapping my arms around him tighter I pushed until Bass collapsed back and I was straddling him. His eyes blazed up at me as I began riding him, rapidly growing breathless. My nails scraped over his chest and I leaned down to suck at his nipple, rolling my hips against his.

His deep groan spurred me on, teasing and licking until Bass was panting my name, his legs shuddering under me. His arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me down for a messy kiss, his hips stuttering.

"I'm fucking…close," he gasped, kissing me desperately.

I leaned back and rode him harder, swearing breathlessly at the sensation of his dick dragging through my folds and slamming back into me. I rubbed two fingers against my clit, arching hard at the fiery sensation rushing through me.

"Oh fuck baby, you look so good," Bass hissed, his fingers cupping my ass as he drove into me.

I swirled harder, faster on my clit and gasped when he pushed my fingers away to replace them with his. My hips shuddered under his rough touch and within a few minutes I was coming, shouting his name.

Bass continued to hammer into me until he groaned and I felt him stiffen within me, hot cum filling me with each thrust. We moved against each other slowly until the last of my shudders stilled and his dick began to soften.

Collapsing against his chest I curled my fingers through his hair and pressed soft kisses to his jaw. Bass let out a soft chuckle, "That was…"

"Fucking amazing?" I supplied with a smirk.

He nodded and ran his fingers up and down my spine, humming softly in pleasure.

"I love you Sebastian," I whispered, leaning up to kiss him.

"I love you too Rebecca."

\------------------------------------

"Sir."

I looked up from the map I was studying with one of my men and frowned, wondering why this scout was interrupting us.

Then I glanced over his shoulder.

My eyes widened at the sight of Rachel.

It had been nearly a decade since I had seen her, and now here she was, standing in front of me.

Without a word I nodded to her, waiting for her reaction.

She hesitated a moment and then nodded back.

Glancing at the scout I nodded, "Cuff her," I ordered.

\-----------------------------------------------

_**AN: OKAY, so we've jumped ahead two years, and we'll keep jumping from here. I truly hope you like this chapter and the ones to come. Thank you all for reading and commenting, it means so much! xoxo** _


	25. A Proposal

**September 20** **th** **, 2019**

I watched from the back deck as the waves pounded into the sand, dragging in and out inexorably. Pulling the sleeves down on my sweater I smiled up at Bass as he carried out a tray of eggs, bacon and toast.

Sitting beside me on the wicker lounge he set the tray down and waved for me to eat. I quickly dug in, leaning back to drop my feet in his lap, smirking when he gave me a mocking glare. We ate in near silence, both of us hungry from our rigorous bout of sex this morning.

In the two days that we had been here we had made love numerous times until we were sore, exhausted and sated. We had talked about everything; our plans for the Republic, what had been going on in our heads for the last two years, and what our plans were for the future.

It was so heartwarming to know how deeply Bass relied on my advice and how much he believed that the best thing for the Republic was my input and guidance. He told me that the only time he ever felt confident making a decision was when we had discussed it, when I had argued with him until he had a headache.

He was sure that nothing could ever make him as confident in a decision as my direction and my expertise. Likewise, I was never more certain about things as I was when we were discussing them.

Bass liked to joke that he was nothing more than a Marine, a grunt who had gotten lucky, but I knew better. He was an incredibly intelligent man, and he hid his cunning behind blue eyes and a charming smile.

Together, we were an unstoppable team.

\------------------------------------------

While Bass napped I lay beside him, smirking when he nuzzled closer, his arm around my waist.

I opened The Brothers Karamazov and frowned when a small envelope slid out, sliding into my lap.

Two years ago Bass had given me the book and I had promptly set it aside, forgetting to read it in the craze that was our lives. He had given me the envelope at the same time as the books, but had told me not to open it until I was ready to, until I remembered what our life had been.

Truth be told I had remembered our life and what I felt for him long ago, but the envelope had slid from my memory the same way it slid into my lap, abruptly and without event.

Glancing over to make sure Bass was still asleep, I slid a finger along the seam of the envelope and opened it. As I slid the letter within free, something dropped into my lap, sliding between my legs to plunk against the mattress.

Setting aside the letter I reached between my legs and paused when my fingers touched cold metal.

Awareness shivered through me.

A ring.

Bass had given me a ring.

My fingers closed around it and I clenched it in my fist, resting it in my lap, my fingers trembling around the ring.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly unfurled my fingers, letting out a soft hiss at the sight of the ring in my palm. It was a delicate ring, rose gold with a fire opal set in the middle of a flower, tiny leaves on the sides holding diamonds.

With shaking fingers I set it on my thigh and opened the letter.

_Dear Rebecca,_

_I know you're struggling with this attack and what it has done to you. I know you feel like you aren't yourself, that you've lost some part of you, that maybe you'll never be whole again._

_Even if you never feel whole, or never entirely yourself again, I'll love you. I'll love you because who you are will never change to me, you'll always be the one I trust with everything in me. I want you to know that no matter what has happened or will happen to you, I'll always be here for you, I'll always love you._

_I have always loved you, even from the beginning. From the first moment I met you and saw your strength I fell for you. It always should have been you baby. I only wish I had the courage in the past to tell you how I felt so we could have been together longer._

_The idea that you could be my wife scares me and makes me happier than I could have ever imagined. I'll love you until the day I die and I hope that you feel the same._

_Rebecca, I hope you'll be my wife because I want nothing more than to be your husband._

_Love you forever,_

_Sebastian_

I wiped away tears at the sweetness enclosed within the letter and set it on my other thigh. Carefully I studied the two objects, tokens of Bass's love and desire to be with me. The decision of whether I accepted them weighed on me for a long few minutes before I set aside the letter and slid the ring on my finger.

Running my fingers through Bass's hair, I propped my knees up and rested the book on my thighs, reading as he slept. Occasionally the light would glint off the opal and I would find myself staring at it, smiling softly.

Nearly two hours passed in which Bass slept and I read, thoroughly enjoying the book that I had read so many years ago in college. When I felt him stir beside me I carefully hid my hand wearing the ring behind the book and smiled at him as his eyes fluttered open.

His lips curled into a sleepy smile.

"Hey babe," he whispered, his fingers curling around my waist, gently tugging me closer.

I smiled softly in response and shut my book, marking the page with the letter Bass had written me. His gaze followed the action and his eyes widened when he saw the letter. He quickly rose up on one arm and stared at me intently.

"Rebecca?" he murmured questioningly, hopefully.

Setting aside the book slowly, I made sure my hand remained out of sight, buried in the sheets as I turned to face him more fully. The hopeful, worried look on his face twisted my heart around and I leaned in to kiss him gently.

Slowly I slid my hand up his chest, squeezing his pec gently to get his attention. His eyes darted down to where my hand rested, widening when he saw the ring around my finger. Smiling softly I leaned in and kissed him again.

"Where's _your_ ring?" I teased softly.

He chuckled softly and shook his head, "I never found one for me. Maybe you should pick it out," he suggested.

"Of course I will Sebastian. When do you want to get married?" I asked softly, smiling widely.

"As soon as we get back. We've waited long enough," he replied eagerly.

Laughing softly I nodded and let him curl me into his embrace, kissing him back with fervor. Pulling away gently I leaned into his chest, sighing happily when he wrapped an arm around my waist.

We lay that way for a long time, dozing in each other's arms.

Bass's fingers slid under my shirt, his rough fingers sliding along my stomach in a way that left shivers running over my body. His palm glided over my stomach and slid up to cup my breast, squeezing it gently.

Sighing in pleasure I slipped my hand under the waistband of his sweats, humming when I encountered nothing but bare skin. He breathed out gently against my lips as I wrapped my fingers around his semi, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Our lips met for a long kiss and when we parted Bass whispered, "Do you want to have kids?"

The question stunned me into stillness.

_Did_ I want kids?

I hadn't as a younger woman, but now that I had been with Bass for so many years, the idea of starting a family with him appealed to me deeply.

Meeting his eyes hesitantly, I nodded.

His eyes widened with joy and sparkled like two jewels as he clutched me tighter, hope springing to his face.

"Really baby? Really?" he whispered, his voice so eager it brought tears to my eyes.

Nodding again I cleared my throat and replied back softly. "I do."

His lips crashed against mine and I could feel his eagerness as he pulled me tighter against him. He let out a low moan as he squeezed my breast again, his thumb rubbing over the nipple until I was aching.

Bass's hips rolled into mine in a steady rhythm that had me softly moaning his name and kissing him fervently. His fingers tugged at my shirt until we parted and he could pull it over my head, tossing it aside.

I was so glad that I had decided to go braless today…especially when his lips closed over my breasts, taking his time to tease them into firm peaks that ached with pleasure.

As he pulled away and kissed my throat I smirked and tugged on his hair gently, running my fingers through it. "You tryin to make that baby now?" I teased softly.

Bass chuckled against my neck and hummed softly, "You got it darlin, and if we don't, it's enjoyable practice anyway," he told me, his tone amused.

I laughed softly and pulled him up for a kiss, my hips caging him in and my legs wrapping around his waist. "Let's practice then," I whispered against his lips.

He made a soft noise of agreement and rolled his hips into mine, kissing me more firmly as his fingers splayed against my back. My fingers scrambled at the hem of his shirt, tugging on it until we parted briefly and I tossed it aside.

Bass pulled me against him, my taut nipples scraping against his chest as we kissed languidly, allowing the heat to grow between us as our hands roamed, teasing and squeezing until we were both moaning and gasping.

I could feel Bass's erection pressing into me, firm and long, making me dry mouthed with need. My fingers curled in the waistband of his pants, tugging him closer as I rolled my hips, gasping softly at the sensation of his length rubbing against my clit through the fabric of my jeans.

My fingers gripped his ass and pulled him harder against me, desperate for more friction. After a few moments I stopped and pushed him onto his back, straddling him quickly. My long hair curtained his face when I leaned in and kissed him, rolling my hips into his.

I ground my hips into his, enjoying the moan of satisfaction that rumbled up out of him. I continued kissing him, my fingers tangling in his curls as I gasped against his lips, my clit aching for relief.

Bass's hands grasped my ass firmly, pulling me harder against him until I was trembling with need. My fingers fumbled with his belt, tugging until his pants hung open and I could shove them off, down his legs and tossed aside with an eagerness that had been missing from our interactions for months.

I lifted myself and peeled away my own pants and underwear before lowering myself and rolling my hips against his, my thighs damp with desire. Bass grunted softly and gripped my hips tightly, his face pinched with concentration.

I couldn't stand it anymore, I needed _more_.

Reaching between us, I guided him to my entrance and slowly sheathed him, a low moan escaping me when he settled fully between my legs, filling me.

Slowly I began to ride his dick, my fingers clamping down on his shoulders as he swelled within me, stretching and spreading me until I was breathless. Bass let me control the pace, his fingers splayed over my hips and curled against my ass, squeezing tightly.

Sweat beaded on my skin as I kept the pace slow, lifting my hips to circle the tip of his dick for a moment before sliding back down and rocking, the sensation of him dragging over my g-spot making me ache.

As I sped up my movements against him my breath came faster in my chest. Bass was mumbling encouragement and arching against me and I knew he wanted to go faster, harder. It was nearly impossible, but I pulled off him and slid away on the bed, laying on my stomach and crooking a finger at him.

An eagerness spread over his face and he quickly clambered up and over me, his knees pinioning my hips as he crouched low and kissed over my shoulders. I could feel his dick tapping against my ass as though he was saying _hello_ and for a moment I smirked.

When his teeth buffed my shoulder my smirk faded and a low moan slid from my throat, my hips arching up into his, grinding against his dick. Bass let out a loud groan and wrapped an arm around my waist, hauling me up to my knees and spreading them with one of his.

I looked back at him and groaned when he began rubbing his dick over my slippery folds, the tip nudging against my clit and making me ache with need. "Bass…please," I whispered, reaching back to grip his hand where it rested on my thigh.

He nodded sharply and I saw his lips purse in concentration as he slid across my folds again before teasing at my wet entrance. "Baaaass," I whined, tilting my hips back to try and draw him in.

He let out a rough laugh before snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself in one fluid motion. I gasped at the sensation and arched against him as he continued to thrust into me, his movements rapid and steady.

Bass pulled me harder against him, his hips slapping against my ass and his fingers on my waist almost painfully tight. Yet it wasn't enough.

"More baby, more!" I demanded.

Bass pushed at my shoulders, gently encouraging me onto my forearms, my ass going higher and allowing him to slip into me deeper. "Fuuuuck," I hissed, clutching at the sheets as he pounded into me.

Each of his strokes managed to slide along my g-spot until I was whining and bucking my hips, aching for more. Bass let out a groan and one of his hands slid around my waist to rub at my clit. My thighs shuddered at the sensation building within me and I cried out loudly, a sob breaking in my chest.

Bass worked his fingers harder, rubbing my clit between his fingers until I was shaking and crying out in desperation, my hips slamming back against his wildly. Bass swore and fingered me faster until I was breaking around him, a wrecked sob slipping from me.

"Yes baby, yes!" Bass cried, his hips still snapping forward relentlessly into mine. He groaned and swore, continuing to fuck me as his fingers slipped over my soaked clit, the pleasure so acute it was painful.

I couldn't breathe it hurt so good. Fiery pleasure made my thighs tremble so hard that if Bass hadn't been holding me up I would have collapsed. I could feel my walls fluttering around him in another orgasm and let out a breathless shout as I came.

Bass's hips stuttered against mine as he cried out, and I could feel him stiffening as he came, shooting hot spurts of cum inside me. My body shuddered as Bass's fingers on my clit slowed, the residual sparks of pleasure making me tremble.

When Bass collapsed over me his long arms spread mine out, his face nuzzling into my neck as he panted breathlessly. Our fingers curled together and though we were both hot and sweaty, I hadn't felt this good in a long time.

"Fuck baby…" Bass breathed, "That was so good," he whispered with a soft chuckle. I groaned in agreement and shifted softly beneath him as he kissed my neck. As the sweat on our skin cooled and our breathing slowed, Bass rolled off me and tucked me into his chest, brushing the sweaty hair back from my face.

My eyes drifted shut and I gently spread my fingers over his chest, breathing in the scent of his skin as I fell asleep.

\-----------------------------------

I carefully slid from the bed as Becca slept; her naked limbs sprawled across the bed as though she was seeking me out. I could have stayed and watched her sleep all evening, but I knew she would be hungry when she woke and I wanted to make her a special meal.

She had always taken care of Miles and I, making sure we were fed, healthy and most importantly, alive. It was incredible to think that she would be my wife and that we might have a family together.

It was everything I had wanted for so long.

Still, I worried about having a baby with Becca, especially after Shelley.

I frowned softly, my daughter would be 7 years old now if she hadn't died, and who knew how many other children Shelley and I could have had if she had made it. As I prepared dinner I decided that I would make sure we had an obstetrics doctor on hand so nothing could go wrong.

I wasn't about to let things spin out of control like they had before. I was going to make sure Becca was safe, no matter what. The idea of Becca giving us a family brought a smile to my face, a warm sensation flooding my chest.

Happiness. Contentedness. Joy.

It had been too long since I had felt this euphoric combination.

I had worried constantly about Becca, even when a distance had grown between us and I had begun to worry that she had stopped loving me. That was something she didn't know, that even if she stopped loving me, I'd never stop loving her.

She'd slid into my heart a long time ago, and she'd never let it go, even if she left me. Becca was everything to me, she brought light and joy into my life everyday and if I somehow managed to lose her it would only be because of my own fuck-ups.

Somehow after everything we had been through it was still shocking to me that she had agreed to be my wife. The last two years had been extremely rough on both of us, and instead of growing closer we had fought and argued, pushing each other away until the distance between us had seemed insurmountable.

Instead of talking to each other we had ignored each other, argued, shouted, and avoided the real issues pushing us apart. Eventually I had grown so tired of it I had suggested a vacation, someplace that it was just the two of us.

I knew that if we were trapped together without other people to interfere we would be forced to talk about our problems and finally, _finally_ , achieve a level of intimacy we had been lacking. Now that we were here I realized how much we had needed it, how distant we had become.

Sighing, I quickly plated the rice, sautéed beef and beans, pouring out two mugs of coffee. Balancing the tray carefully, I walked up stairs, avoiding the squeaky spots, and into the bedroom where Becca slept.

Her limbs were sprawled over the bed, her fingers curled into the pillow that my head had rested on. The sheets were tugged down to her waist, revealing her toned back, the small dimples at the base of her spine aching to be touched, kissed.

Quietly I set aside the tray and ran my fingers over her spine, smiling softly when she murmured and buried her face deeper into the pillows. "Becca, baby, wake up," I whispered, my fingers pressing lightly into those soft dimples at the base of her spine.

She let out another soft noise and turned her face up out of the pillow, an eye cracking open. Half of her smile was visible as her fingers slid across the mattress and wrapped around my thigh, squeezing softly.

I smirked softly back, "Hey babe. Food," I murmured, waving towards the tray.

I laughed as her eyes lit up and she rolled towards me, making grabby hands at the tray. "Pig," I teased softly, laughing and ducking back when she reached out to slap my, an amusedly disgruntled look on her face.

"Fuck you," she replied archly, reaching around me to grab a plate, her breasts flush against my chest for a long, heady moment. She grinned knowingly as she pulled away, pulling the sheet up over her chest to conceal her perfect breasts as she began to eat.

I slid into bed beside her and grabbed my plate, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close as I ate.

"This is good Bass," she murmured through a mouthful, smiling softly up at me.

"You sound surprised," I teased, my eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Hmm, you know, your cooking on the road was never that great, that's all."

I snorted and kissed her temple softly, "I think what you mean is that I could burn water without even trying," I replied softly.

She laughed and shrugged, "You said it, not me."

We ate in silence for awhile and when we had finished I took our plates and stacked them on the tray, rolling to pull her into my arms. Her nose nuzzled into my throat as her arms wound around my waist, a soft, content sigh brushing against my skin.

My fingers wound through her hair, playing with it softly.

"You know how much I love you, right?" I asked quietly.

She pulled away softly and peered up at me, frowning faintly. "Of course Sebastian. What happened over these past two years isn't because I don't love you, it's because we stopped listening to each other."

"I changed after the attack and I was scared of that. I pushed you away because I was scared I was losing my grip on who I was, and who _we_ were as a couple. Everything had changed, and at the same time, nothing had changed. We were still _us_ , but we weren't. I couldn't trust myself to be the woman you love, and I worried that I was tainting you with everything I was feeling."

I opened my mouth to interrupt and she shook her head, softly placing her fingers against my lips. "Uh huh baby, let me finish," she insisted.

"Everything that happened over these last two years is _our_ fault. Instead of seeing past the fake bullshit we were talking we took everything at face value and let it fuck everything up. I don't want that ever again. We swore to have each other's backs and I don't ever plan on letting you down again."

Her face was increasingly earnest as she spoke and by the time she was done my throat was tight with emotion. When she fell silent I leaned in and kissed her softly, firmly, until we were both clutching at each other desperately.

We parted slowly, breathing unevenly.

Resting my forehead against hers I exhaled slowly, my chest tight with sentiment. "I'm sorry babe. I knew all the time that it was happening that I was fucking up, but it seemed like you wanted me away from you and I didn't want to push you. I should have known better, I should have known that I needed to fight for you. I hope you know I'll never stop fighting for you," I told her softly.

She nodded faintly and lifted a hand to trace her fingers over my cheek, her eyes warm. "I've got your back baby, always," she whispered. Her fingers traced softly over my face, a melancholy look on her face.

"What's wrong?" I whispered.

"I'm just remembering how you looked during the cholera outbreak. I don't know why, it just flooded to the surface. I don't think I've ever been that scared before, watching you, thinking you were going to die. I can't imagine what it was like for your while I was recovering," she murmured, her brow furrowed.

My gut twisted at her words. What she didn't know was that when I had been at my sickest, my heart had stopped and the doctors had revived me after three minutes. In that space between life and death I had seen so clearly what I had been missing before; Becca was my _one_ and everything we had been working to build within the Republic would mean nothing without her.

Swallowing hard I nodded and kissed her forehead softly.

"It was absolute torture. I was so scared you were going to slip away. And then when you started to during your recovery…" I hesitated for a moment and then continued, "I worried that you didn't love me anymore."

She shook her head effusively and wrapped her fingers around my neck, her nails digging into my skin softly.

"Never baby, _never_. I'll always love you, no matter what," she whispered urgently.

Her arm wrapped around my waist, her fingers digging into my back softly, holding me close. Her eyes drifted shut and she tucked her head under my chin, sighing softly.

I held on tight, resisting the sensation that swam over me that she might slip away if I let go; that everything might slip away if I took my eyes off her for even a second.

I swallowed down the feeling and closed my eyes, holding her close, trying to chase away the fears that swirled within me.

Everything would be fine.


	26. The Future

**October 30** **th** **, 2019**

"OW! That hurts!"

"Yea well if you'd quit  _squirming_  it would be over before you know it!"

"If you weren't terrible at putting in stitches I wouldn't be  _squirming_!"

"Oh my god Bass, you're such a  _baby_.  _There_ , I'm done, will you quit bitching now?"

He gave me a disgruntled look and sank deeper into the tub, submerging his head and reappearing a moment later to shake his head and splash water all over me. Gasping and shrieking, I stood and slapped his head, ignoring his chuckle of amusement.

His wet hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged, pulling me off balance and onto the edge of the tub. His other hand snarled in my curls and pulled my face down to his, an amused laugh slipping between his lips as he kissed me.

When he pulled away he stared up at me, his clear blue eyes darkening with emotion. "It was a close call, huh?" I whispered, tracing my fingers over his sharp cheekbone. He nodded and his hand slid down around my neck, beads of water trailing over my skin in cool trails.

"These rebels are causing more and more problems. They've been instigating conflicts between our border with Georgia, and we think they're working with the Plains Nations too," he replied softly, looking troubled.

"I should go to Georgia and make sure things don't fall apart," I murmured, sighing when I saw frustration and anger rising on his face.

"No. Things are too dangerous!" he refuted, shaking his head firmly.

Sighing, I took a moment to keep a firmer grasp on my annoyance with him and allowed a twist of my lips, "Bass, you've got to trust me to do my job. I've worked with Foster before; she'll trust me more than anyone else. I've got to go babe," I told him.

He made a soft disgruntled noise and huffed, his jaw set as he avoided my gaze. "I don't want you to go," he murmured, "I just got you back," he revealed, glancing up to me, his expression earnest.

I felt my heart break at his words and smiled sadly at him, "I know Bass, and I don't want to leave you either, but the Republic is too important for me not to do what I can."

He sighed and pouted, "I'll miss you," he murmured, a mischievous look in his eyes. His fingers around my neck and wrist tightened and pulled hard, yanking me into the tub with a loud laugh.

Spluttering, I pushed back the sopping mess of hair that had covered my face and turned to smack him, my mouth turned up on one side in an amused half smile. His hand caught mine before it could connect and tugged me flush against him, his mouth capturing mine.

His free hand slid up under my wet shirt and fiddled with my bra hooks until they popped loose, a satisfied sound coming deep from his chest. His tongue fought mine until I was breathless and he let me pull back, a smirk on his lips.

"If you're going to leave me, we should at least make it memorable," he whispered, the heated tone sending shivers over my skin.

Sliding my legs around his hips I pulled my soaking shirt and bra off, leaning in to press my chest to his, my lips scant millimeters from his.

"I love a good send off," I breathed, smirking against his lips as I kissed him.

Water sloshed over the edge of the tub and I idly thought how annoyed Miles was going to be that I was going to be late for our meeting.

Oh well.

\------------------------------------------

**October 31** **st** **, 2019**

Cinching the girth on Beda I patted her neck and murmured softly to her in Russian as we prepared for the trip to Georgia. In order to stay light and fast on the road Natasha and trio of my select guard would be travelling with me to the border. Once I was there I would leave the guard behind and stay in the capitol myself, the guard staying just on the other side of the border.

Bass wasn't pleased to say the least, but he knew that trying to force me to stay would be a bad idea. I've never liked being bossed around, especially when it's someone I love doing the bossing.

Probably residual shit with my father I've never worked out…

Grimacing at that thought I shook my head and slung my saddlebags over Beda's back, securing them tightly.

"You're going to miss the Halloween party the citizens have planned."

Smiling faintly I glanced up to where Bass was leaning against the stall door, watching me, a soft smile gracing his face. Securing another bag to Beda's back I laughed softly, "Are you dressing up?" I retorted teasingly.

He smirked at that and nodded, "I was thinking of going as a pirate," he replied. "I was hoping you would be my wench," he murmured, affection coloring his voice.

With a snort of laughter I shook my head and strolled over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and peered up at him. "And if I wanted to be a pirate too?" I asked, grinning.

"You'd still be my wench."

Burying my face in his chest I laughed hard, enjoying the feel of his laughter in his chest. "You are  _such_  an ass sometimes," I murmured, turning my face back up to his.

"Hmm, while true, it's part of why you love me," he replied, lifting a hand to wind around my neck and draw me up for a kiss.

Humming in agreement I pulled him tighter against me and arched up on my toes, deepening the kiss. After a few long moments I pulled away and buried my face in his neck.

"I have to go babe," I whispered, my lips brushing his skin.

His arms tightened around me and he sighed deeply. I knew it was hard for him, letting me go. But he trusted that I would do everything in my power to always come back. It was other people he didn't trust.

Not that I blamed him.

His lips brushed against my hair and then again on my temple. I could feel him fighting the sorrow that was between us, struggling to stay strong and not beg me to stay. After another long kiss I pulled away and ran a hand over his cheek, smiling sadly.

"I'll be back before you know it," I whispered.

He smiled sadly and watched as I mounted up, nudging Beda forward to join the guard that waited outside.

The women nodded deferentially and he returned the gesture stiffly before turning to me and laying a hand on my calf. His fingers tightened and he swallowed hard, his eyes bright with emotion.

"Stay safe," he ordered softly, his voice rough and low.

I nodded and leaned down, meeting his lips as he rose up.

"I will. I love you," I whispered, giving him a warm smile.

"Love you too," he murmured, his gaze sorrowful.

I nudged Beda forward and headed for the wall surrounding the city, parts of it still under construction.

Next stop, the Georgia Federation.

\---------------------------------

**November 23** **rd** **, 2019**

"Happy Thanksgiving Ambassador Flynn," Kelly Foster murmured, lifting her glass of wine in a toast. I smiled tiredly and lifted my own glass of water to toast with. She had tried to press wine on me, but I was too tired and headachy from the trip to really want any.

I had only gotten in to Atlanta the day before, and had barely had time to wash my face before I was called into a meeting with Kelly for nearly three frustrating hours.

Despite the festive occasion, there was tension so thick in the air you could practically taste it. Kelly had been snide and dismissive all day during our negotiations and I was starting to worry that things were going to break down.

I had sent a letter to Bass as soon as we finished, one of my messengers was allowed in the city with me until they left at which point another would rotate in from the border.

Things on the border were growing worse, Georgia was barely concealing its forces anymore, and their attacks were growing more vicious. Three farms had their crops burnt and the families run off.

With the Plains Nations attacking both our forces, you would think she would be more amenable to working together, but  _no_ , the woman seemed hell bent on starting a full blown war with the Republic.

Sighing, I picked at my food, my stomach uneasy. The last 24 hours had been trying and tiring, and all I really wanted was to go to bed and sleep. Every bone in my body ached and my head pounded.

"You seem disinterested Ambassador, is it the food?" Kelly asked solicitously, though I could see a shark like look in her eyes, her predatory expression making my stomach lurch.

Or maybe that was the turkey.

Sighing softly I worked up a faint smile, "No, the food is wonderful, I'm just not feeling well. It was a long hard ride to get here through some rough weather. Would you mind terribly if I excused myself for the evening?" I proposed. "I'd like to be fresh for tomorrow," I assured her with a weak smile.

Kelly nodded sympathetically, "Of course dear. And why don't we start tomorrow at 9am?" she offered.

Pushing back from my plate I nodded and smiled appreciatively, "That would be wonderful. Good night, and thank you for the meal," I murmured.

She mouthed a polite response and I was gone, striding as quickly as I could manage to my room and locking the door behind me. Stripping off my clothes I had a quick basin bath and then pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a sweater from my old college, the sleeves threadbare from washings and my incessant picking at the fabric.

Pulling my hair out of the French braid it had been in I slid into bed and curled on my side, watching as rain lashed against the windows. I missed Bass and Miles, and ached deeply for home, for my bed with Bass, for our shared meals with Miles, for the laughter and love that surrounded me there.

It was so austere here with Kelly. She was barely civil, let alone friendly.

Wiping at the tears that had crept out, I rolled over and snuggled into the quilt, eyes drifting shut in exhaustion.

Maybe tomorrow Kelly wouldn't be such a bitch.

\----------------------------------

**January 1** **st** **, 2020**

Snow piled in the streets softly, the gas lamps flickering in the purple twilight, shining on the faces of the children and adults alike, who had gathered to throw snowballs, create snowmen and make snow angels together.

My breath condensed on the glass, peering out at the people going about their evening so freely. With a sigh I turned away from the window and rubbed a hand over my softly swollen stomach.

It was shortly before I had discovered I was pregnant that the Georgia Federation took me captive and began using all manner of unpleasant tactics to try and prise information from me.

In order to ensure my inability to escape they posted guards outside my door and had an escort for everything. When my pregnancy became obvious, the "enhanced interrogations" ceased.

As the months passed, my stomach grew and so too did the conflict between Georgia and Monroe. I wasn't allowed to write to Bass more than once a month, and his letters were withheld from me until after they had been read so many times for code that the words became smudged.

I hadn't told him about the baby.

It didn't seem like the right thing to do when I knew that if he learned about the baby he would throw every resource into securing my freedom.

As bad as the war was between our nations, it would only grow worse if Bass tried to invade to free me and the baby. That's not to say I didn't want to go home. Hell if I could have managed to free myself, I would in a heartbeat.

The last thing I wanted was to be a hostage. Shit, I could barely handle being pregnant, let alone pregnant  _and_  a hostage.

Most days were a struggle not to lose my shit. Kelly had been kind enough (hah) to allow me access to the library they had in the house they were holding me in, but it wasn't enough to keep my mind busy.

I  _needed_  to go home.

\------------------------------

**March 17** **th** **, 2020**

"You've got ten minutes, you might want to hurry it up."

"I'm six months pregnant, there's no hurrying  _anything_ ," I snapped at the guard who was escorting me into the backyard of the townhouse I was being held in.

Slowly I walked down the stairs and into the weak sunlight, turning my face up to catch some of the rays. I was being supplied with all the prenatal vitamins and food I could need, along with a doctor visit once a week to ensure the baby and I were healthy.

The doctor had removed my now useless birth control implant from my arm and suggested using the "pull out" method in the future, given that all the birth control that was produced the year of the blackout was expiring soon.

Given that pretty terribly advice, I was planning on getting the pill when I finally got home so Bass and I could actually  _plan_  for any more children.

Granted, I needed to actually  _make_ it home first.

Sighing, I went and sat on the swing, rocking gently and rubbing my swollen stomach.

"Someday baby, we'll be home with daddy," I whispered, staring up at the clear blue sky.

Someday.

\------------------------------

We watched as Ambassador Flynn was walked back into the house, her hand resting on her full stomach. Anxiety slid through my stomach, icy and nauseating.

President Monroe and General Matheson would  _not_ be pleased by this development.

\-----------------------------------

"S-she's  _pregnant_?!" Bass spluttered, his face draining of color just as his cheeks had flushed, leaving him looking splotchy and apoplectic.

I could hardly blame him.

He had just found out his fiancé was pregnant, being held captive, and according to the scouts, unable to be rescued without harm befalling her or the baby.

Rubbing a hand over my face I waved a hand at the scout, "How dangerous would this be?" I demanded, "Could we get a small team into the city to get her out?"

The young man shook his head, "Everyone is inspected, papers are required, and weapons are confiscated on sight. We'd have to have an ally already in the city to be able to get in," he told me.

I glanced at Bass, "Do we have anyone there?" I demanded.

He shook his head with a low growl, "No! No one that could pull this off, anyways," he muttered harshly.

A young soldier with dark skin stepped forward hesitantly, "General, if I may?" he questioned.

I remembered his face from the Trenton Campaign but couldn't place a name to it. "Go ahead," I ordered, watching Bass pace out of the corner of my eye.

"I have a cousin in the city. He's smuggled me goods from the city and if I get a letter to him, he might be able to help us," the young man told me, almost hopefully.

Frowning, I assessed him for a long moment before replying. "What's your name soldier?" I demanded gruffly.

"Alec, sir," he replied sharply, standing straighter.

"Hmm, well Alec, let's test your cousin and see if he can get a letter to the Ambassador before we try anything else," I ordered.

He nodded and bowed, backing away at my dismissive gesture. The room cleared of people and Bass finally unraveled, his eyes wild as he slammed a hand into the table.

"Goddammit Miles! How could I have let her go again?" he shouted, slamming his fist into the table again. "She would be  _safe_  if I had just made her stay!" he cried, his eyes tortured as he looked over at me.

Shaking my head I stepped over to my best friend's side, "Bass, if you had made her stay, she would have been furious with you. You guys were just getting back to what you had before. Kelly Foster may not be the most warm hearted person, but she respects Becca and she's not going to do anything to hurt a baby," I assured him.

Bass swallowed hard and looked away and I could see tears forming there. "But…what if something happens to her?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Laying a hand on his shoulder I sighed heavily, "Then we'll go to war and destroy Georgia," I replied softly.

His eyes blazed up at mine, rimmed with red from unshed tears.

"I want her back."

\----------------------------

_Dear Rebecca,_

_This letter is being carried to you through a militia member's cousin. He has assured us he will get it to you if he can do so safely, which means I will have to wait almost two months to find out if you have received this letter._

_The thought of you alone, captive, and pregnant terrifies me. I would break the Federation with every resource we have, but rebels have been attacking and the Plains Nations continue to pick away at our borders, pulling away necessary resources._

_I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to secure your freedom. Do not_ _**ever** _ _think I have forgotten or abandoned you._

_Without you, what am I living for?_

_I will never leave you behind._

_I will_ _**always** _ _have your back._

_I love you._

_Sebastian_

Refolding the letter, I tossed it onto the flames of the fire in my room and watched as the words turned to ash.

_Ashes to ashes_

A shiver ran over my skin and I absently pulled my sweater tighter, the fabric straining over my large belly. Just a month and a half left in my pregnancy, and before I knew it I would be holding my child.

Sitting down the bed I pulled out the stationary I had hid under the mattress and began composing a reply to Bass.

\--------------------------

_Dear Sebastian,_

_I do not blame you for my captivity, the blame for this lies solely with Kelly Foster and the Georgia Federation. I do not want you to go to war for me. I will make it home to you eventually, and I know that when I do I and our child will be safe once more._

_I trust you, I believe in you, and I have your back too babe._

_I love you._

_Rebecca_

_\------------------------------------_

**May 3** **rd** **, 2020**

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"You've got to push again Becca, your baby needs to come out now."

"Fuuuuuuuuck!"

"Come on Becca, push!"

I bore down, pushing as hard as I could, feeling as though my body was being split in two by the agony in my womb. I sobbed and begged for it to stop, still pushing.

"Good Becca, good!"

I felt a pair of hands between my legs pulling, and like the popping of a cork, my baby slid from me in a gush of blood and amniotic fluid. I collapsed back against the pillows, crying as I watched the nurses and doctors working on me and the baby.

Time flew by until they rested the baby in my arms and continued to work on removing the placenta. Tears flooded my eyes as I held my child, running my fingers over its face, learning every detail.

"You have a healthy baby boy Becca, do you have a name for him?" a nurse asked politely.

I stared down at my son's face and smiled in love and wonder.

"William Miles Monroe," I murmured in reply.

\----------------------------------

**May 18** **th** **, 2020**

"President Foster, I'm telling you that if you agree to end hostilities with the Republic, you will get what you want," I assured the other leader, running a hand over William's back as he settled into a nap on my shoulder.

"What I want is the surrender of the Republic," she snapped back.

"That's not going to happen and we both know it," I replied smoothly.

"Then we have nothing to talk about," she snapped and stood, tossing her pen onto the table with a loud scoff.

When she had cleared the room along with her security, I was led out of the capitol building and back to the house I had been occupying for months. After I had settled William into his crib I sat on the settee and began writing up a list of terms to send to Bass.

After the birth of William negotiations had resumed and communications with the Republic had started once more. I had been able to get word to Bass in code that we had a baby, and that we were both fine.

There still wasn't a reply, but truthfully, I wasn't expecting one yet. It would take at least two weeks for our message to be relayed up to Philly and another two for a reply to be sent.

I sighed and looked over to where my son slept, bittersweet heartache filling me. I couldn't wait to get home and feel safe again, to be with Bass again.

I wanted to go  _home_.

\------------------------------------

_**AN: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've been bogged down with other stories, but I'm working on writing more so this can be updated more frequently. Please review, and thank you so much for reading!** _


	27. Let's Hurt Tonight

 

_"_ _What are Monroe's plans?"_

_"_ _Where will they strike first?_

_"_ _What are their tactics for battle?"_

_"_ _How many soldiers do they have?"_

_Each unanswered question resulted in a backhanded blow to my face or gut and eventually blood streamed unabated down my chin, the copper taste choking me._

_As my captors grew tired of hitting me they hauled me up out of the chair, hands still tied behind my back and shoved my head into a bucket of ice water. Shuddering at the cold prickling my skin, I held my breath, determined not to struggle and use energy that I desperately needed to stay alive._

_My heart thudded in my ears and my lungs burned, begging for air._

_I was going to die here._

_Just as I was contemplating opening my mouth and sucking in a swallow of water and ending it all, my head was ripped out of the bucket._

_My lungs sang as I gasped and sucked down air greedily._

_Before I had a chance to prepare they shoved my head under the water again and I choked, expelling water from my mouth and nose. Panicking, I struggled not to inhale like my body cried out to do._

_Darkness pressed in around the edges and I weakened, my body betraying me._

_It had been too long._

_I had fought too hard._

_My lungs worked and I inhaled, my body coughing and wheezing for a moment before the darkness swelled and took me under._

_Agony tore through my lungs as I was brought back, hacking and coughing, my body expelling water and hungrily replacing it with oxygen. Weakened and unable to fight back, I was tossed into a cell, the dank air making me cringe._

_A half rotten mattress lay on the floor beside a rusted toilet that I didn't even want to get close to. Crawling over the floor I tugged the mattress closer to the bars of the cell door and curled up on it, shivering._

_I coughed weakly, my chest aching from being given CPR and expelling the water I had nearly died on._

_Day passed and my cough worsened, rattling and wheezing in my chest._

_I was going to die._

_\-----------------------------------------------------_

**November 1** **st** **2020**

Cold air whipped through the trees, a bite of snow in the air. I nudged Beda forward, urging her into a trot. William was secured against my neck in a sling, sleeping peacefully under my jacket.

We had been released a day earlier, after advanced negotiations that had resulted in the cessation of hostilities between our nations, the ceding of lands by the Republic that had been claimed by the Georgia Federation, and our release.

Tom Neville had been sent to escort us home, a position he took with obvious pleasure. Honestly though, at this point I didn't really care, I just wanted to get as far away from the Georgia Federation as possible.

Every moment we stayed close by was a moment that my child was in danger, and I wouldn't allow it.

\-------------------------------------

**December 1** **st** **2020**

Tom assisted me dismounting Beda, making sure William didn't get jostled or injured.

"Becca!"

"Rebecca!"

At the dual shouts of my name I spun and saw Miles and Bass running down the capitol steps panic and joy on their faces. As they approached, shouting, William began to stir, a soft cry rising in the air.

Waving a hand at the men I shook my head in annoyance and shushed them. Miles and Bass surrounded me, hurrying me up the stairs and into the building. When the large doors had shut behind us, the men instantly began peppering me with questions.

"Are you ok?"

"What happened?"

"Are you hungry? Tired?"

As we reached the room Bass and I had shared before I left I paused and lifted a hand to silence the men. "Guys, I'm okay. I'm tired and hungry, but so is my son. I'm going inside and feeding him, and when he's gone to sleep, then we can talk."

Miles grumbled for a moment and then wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I'm glad you're back," he murmured before turning and leaving.

Bass pushed the door open and entered behind me, my bags in hand. When the door had shut he watched as I went to the couch and unwrapped William, easing my shirt up and guiding him to my breast.

As he latched on Bass made a soft noise and stepped forward, moving to sit beside me. "Does it hurt?" he asked, sounding both worried and awed.

I smiled softly at him, "It did at first, it's a lot better now. I imagine when he starts teething it won't be super comfortable."

Bass watched our son nurse until he fell asleep and I transferred him onto the bed, placing pillows all around him to keep him secure. Standing over him, watching him sleep, I smiled when Bass's arms wound around my waist and his chin rested on my shoulder.

"We'll get him a crib tomorrow," he murmured, holding me close.

I nodded and leaned deeper into Bass's embrace, weariness hitting me bone deep. Perhaps Bass could sense it because he pressed a kiss to my neck and murmured, "I'll have a bath drawn for you and order food."

God that sounded good. A close second to sleeping in my own bed, but damn good.

His arms unwound from my waist and a moment later I heard the suite door open and close. Sinking down onto the window seat I kicked off my boots and piled the pillows behind my back, covering myself with a small blanket.

Leaning my head against the windows I watched my son sleep, my own eyes growing heavy. When I woke the scent of food slammed into my gut and I groaned, eager for a well prepared hot meal.

Wincing at the crick in my neck I stood and found Bass in the bathroom, filing the tub with buckets of steaming water. A tray of food rested on the table in the den and I hurried towards it, not bothering to sit down before I began shoveling food into my mouth.

Georgia hadn't starved me per se, but I certainly hadn't gotten enough while I was nursing. Riding back to the Republic wasn't much better.

As I emptied the tray I heard a soft noise from William and hurried over, watching him for a moment as he squirmed and then stilled, a faint sigh coming from his parted rosebud lips. My heart ached at the sight of him, his eyes stormy and beautiful like his father's.

A hand landed on my shoulder and I glanced up at Bass, tears in my eyes. His brow furrowed in worry and his hand lifted to my cheek. "What is it baby? What's wrong?" he demanded softly.

Unable to speak I buried my face in his chest, the weight of the last year crashing down on me in a rush. As I wept I trembled from head to toe, anxiety and fear flooding me. It was almost too much to believe that I was home and safe.

Bass hushed me softly, one arm firm around my waist, the other hand sliding up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

I sobbed harder, feeling as though something was breaking open inside me. "I w-was s-so scaaaared!" I wailed, clutching at his shirt. "I t-t-thought I w-was going to d-die!" I cried, tears flooding down my cheeks.

My chest ached from the force of the emotions drowning me. I hiccoughed and gasped, trying to breathe normally, trying to stop crying, but I couldn't. It felt like Georgia was just on the other side of the door and at any moment I might be taken back and tortured until I broke.

Bass's arms went around me tighter, his fingers burrowing in my hair.

"My god Becca, I thought I had lost you," he murmured, his voice broken. "You're home baby, you're home," he whispered.

"You're safe."

At these words I wept harder until it felt like my body would collapse from the force of my sorrow. I could feel Bass's shoulders shudder and heard a soft broken noise come from his chest. Dimly I realized he was crying too and I clung to him tighter, trying to hold us both together with what little strength I had left.

We remained that way until my tears slowed and then stopped, my eyes aching blurry when I finally looked up at him. Bass's eyes were red, but he smiled softly and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"I love you Rebecca," he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead.

It was that tiny gesture of love that started to heal me, more than it did to sob and wail. I shuddered in his arms and nuzzled into his neck, my nose running against his jaw, short trembling breaths panting against his skin.

"I love you too Sebastian," I told him, my heart throbbing with relief. I was home, I was safe, and I was with Bass.

I pulled away gently and wiped at my face, glancing over to where William still slept soundly. Smiling weakly I pushed a hand through my hair, "I should take a bath while he's still asleep," I told Bass.

He nodded and followed me, stripping off his clothes too. I couldn't object to his joining me, with the bathroom door open we would be able to hear if William woke, and at that moment the last thing I wanted was to be too far from Bass.

When I settled into the tub, reclining against his chest, his arms wound around me. One clamped around my waist and the other crossed over my chest, warm water rolling down his skin to mine. I shivered and slid further into the water, my eyes sliding shut as Bass held me.

There was something healing about being together, skin to skin. It was like when babies are born and they rest against the mother's bare breast, forming that first crucial bond.

I was reborn, here in Bass's arms.

\-----------------------------------

Bass's arms were tight around me that night as we lay in bed together. William was in a dresser drawer on the floor, swaddled tightly and sleeping soundly. It had been a hard journey for both of us.

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to relax enough to sleep. It was overwhelming to realize I was home and safe. My mind  _knew_  I was safe, but every creak of the floorboards under a heavy boot or slamming of a door in the distance made me flinch, remembering my time in captivity.

Even taking a bath had been nerve wracking, even with Bass's arms around me, keeping me safe. All I could remember was my head being forced under the icy water until I drowned. The moment of painful resuscitation had flashed in my mind, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead as I struggled to control my breathing.

Bass had no idea how broken I was, and I didn't know if I could ever tell him.

I wasn't the strong one anymore.

Now I needed him to hold me together, as I had done for him so many times before.

\--------------------------------

A soft whimpering noise roused me and I rolled over, limbs heavy with sleep. William's cries gained strength as I slipped out of bed and picked him up, my eyes not even open as I slid my shirt up and held him close.

A moment later his small mouth closed around my breast, his cries stifled and then silenced. Sliding back into bed I slumped against the pillows, my breathing soft as he nursed. Eventually he fell back to sleep and I pulled him gently away from my breast, holding him close as I slid into the bed.

Curling around his small body I breathed out heavily, even more exhausted. Bass rolled over, his eyes fluttering open. Lines feathered around his eyes as he smiled faintly, "Everything okay?" he whispered.

I nodded, "Just hungry," I murmured sluggishly.

He slid closer and wrapped an arm around my waist, his eyes sliding closed again. "Get some sleep baby," he whispered, his fingers squeezing on my hip.

A smile crept over my lips at his term of endearment and I nodded before my eyes slipped closed and I laid a hand on William's tiny body, the steady rise and fall of his chest reassuring.

\--------------------------------------

"Will you tell me what happened?"

Bass's quiet question as we ate breakfast made me pause, my stomach turning. I swallowed my bite of bacon and lifted my gaze to him, my lips trembling. Carefully I sipped on my coffee and thought about it for a moment before sighing heavily, "I don't know if I can right now…maybe ever," I told him.

His brow furrowed and a glint of anger lit his eyes, "It was that bad?" he asked carefully, the controlled anger in his voice sending a shiver over my skin.

"It was bad enough that I don't want to talk about it right now," I told him shortly, memories of excruciating pain surging to the surface.

Setting aside the bacon I wiped my hands on the cloth napkin, carefully setting it aside as I stood, averting my eyes.

"I just…I can't talk about it right now Bass. It's too…close," I whispered.

I heard his footsteps and a moment later his boots entered my frame of vision. His hand reached out tentatively, reaching for my face. His fingers brushed against my cheek and I flinched, stiffening.

The pads of his fingers ran over my jaw softly and I could feel his eyes piercing me. "I'm sorry Becca, I'm so sorry," he whispered.

My jaw tightened as I struggled not to cry, tears flooding my eyes. My breath shuddered out of my chest, control slipping through my fingers.

"Look at me," he urged softly.

_"_ _Look at me!"_

_The man assigned to torture me screamed and when I didn't comply, backhanded me so hard I saw stars._

_"_ _**Look at me,** _ _" he hissed._

I gasped and stumbled back from Bass's touch, my stomach heaving. I ran for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me as I lunged for the bucket that was used for waste. I vomited, tears burning my eyes and acid coating my tongue.

A ringing in my ears and a swelling sensation in my stomach made my limbs shudder, weakness overcoming me.

_"_ _If you don't start talking Ms. Flynn, things are going to get much worse," a large man told me._

_I choked out a laugh and spat a globule of blood, my chest aching so deeply it hurt to breathe. "I'd like to see that," I hissed._

_He scowled and a breath later his boot snapped into my jaw, sending me sprawling to the floor, head ringing with agony. I barely hung onto consciousness, eyes screwed shut as I gasped and wheezed, tears rolling down my cheeks._

_His foot lashed out again and stomped onto my elbow, a sharp cracking noise echoing through the cell._

_My scream was high pitched and agonized, wailing and sobbing as heat filled my arm. The man crouched down and grabbed my head, grinning evilly at me._

_"_ _Do you see now?" he whispered._

My cheek was pressed against cool tile, sweat coating my skin. Shuddering uncontrollably I wrapped my arms around my waist, whimpering.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I sobbed, every limb aching and my head pounding. God, why couldn't I just forget? Why did I have to remember in such excruciating detail?

Why was I so goddamn broken?

\-----------------------------------

"She won't tell me what happened and I can't get her to talk about anything that happened," I confided to Miles, worry gnawing at my stomach.

"She was tortured, you can't exactly expect her to be the same person she was," Miles murmured in response, his heavy brow furrowed.

"I know that!" I snapped furrowing a hand through my hair. "I just, I want to make sure she's  _safe_ ," I breathed, my chest aching at the thought of her being in pain.

"She'll never be truly safe," Miles told me softly, "You know that. The rebellion within the Republic grows with everyday."

I grunted, nodding. The rebellion had been a constant worry for the past year, their attacks growing in ferocity. If something happened to Becca because of the rebellion, I would hunt them and burn them to the ground.

This wasn't the United States of America anymore, it was my Republic, and I damn sure wasn't going to let anything take it, or Becca, down.

\------------------------------

I watched as Becca paced the floor of the quarters she shared with Bass, her hands pressed tightly to the small back of her son. William slept restlessly, whimpering in his slumber. Becca's eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, deep purple marks under her eyes and lines around her mouth.

"Miles, I don't have the energy to attend a Council meeting, let alone give you advice on how to deal with the rebels. William is colicky and I haven't had more than five hours of sleep since I got back. I can barely sleep at night, and when Bass touches me all I can feel and see and hear are the men who tortured me. I'm not the person I was Miles, and I don't know how to be anymore," she explained in a rush, her words running together at the end.

Her eyes were bright with emotion and she pressed William tighter against her, clutching to him for support. Tears shone in her eyes and it ripped at my guts, making it hard for me to breathe, let alone look at her.

"Becca…" I sighed, shaking my head. She gave me a tired, plaintive look and I ran a hand over my jaw, "What do you need from me?" I asked softly.

She shook her head and sighed, her movements jerky. "I don't….I don't  _know_  what I need anymore," she whispered. "I just know that I can't help you to run the Republic right now," she murmured.

Stepping into her path I laid a hand on her shoulder and stared down into her green-hazel eyes, the depth of sorrow there making my heart ache. Becca was like a younger sister to me, and when she had been taken hostage, it had taken all of my will to keep us from war.

Bass was ready to burn the world to the ground for her, and I wasn't far behind him, but I knew that what the Republic needed was a capable leader who wouldn't rush to battle over the loss of one woman.

Even if she was my best friend.

I gathered her into my arms and held her close, my nose buried in her hair.

"Whatever you need Becca," I murmured, "I'll do whatever you need."

She sobbed softly and buried her face in my shoulder, her thin frame shuddering under my hands. It nearly broke my heart to hear her soft cries, and I choked back my own tears, my hands tightening on her shoulders.

"I've got you," I murmured roughly, "I'm here."

\--------------------------------------------

_**AN: RIGHT...so I apologize for the delay! I don't have anything else actually written after this, but I do have it planned out. So all I have to do is find the time to write :P Anywho, thank you all for reading, and please grace me with some reviews!  
** _


	28. Break Me, Heal Me

Some instinct woke me, perhaps it was the pressure in my full breasts or the quiet when there should have been soft, hungry cries. Whatever it was, I sat upright, sweat on my spine as I looked around, terror clutching at me.

I didn't see William.

On numb legs I slid from bed and began a hurried search of our rooms, calling out his name in an increasingly louder voice until I was nearly shouting. The door to our suite opened and Natasha's fiery countenance met mine.

"Becca, what's wrong?" she demanded, stepping into the room when she saw my disheveled, overwrought state. A naked blade was in one hand, her gaze flickering around the room for enemies to cut down.

"I can't find William!" I gasped, panic blooming anew in my chest. "Where…do you know where he is?" I demanded.

After a breath she nodded and sheathed her sword, stepping closer to lay a hand on my arm, "It's okay Becca, he's with his father. I believe he took him down to the stables to see the horses," she said, her voice low and comforting.

A shiver went over my body and I went to step around her, eager to find my son, when she squeezed my arm and smiled faintly, "Perhaps some warmer clothes?" she suggested lightly.

I hadn't even thought of it, of course. With a hasty nod I ran back to our bedroom and changed, barely realizing what I was dressing in, only that I knew where my son was and that I had to get to him.

I bolted past Natasha and ran through the halls, out the building and down to the stables. Eyes wide, I searched until I found Bass at Beda's stall, holding a tightly swaddled William up so he could pat her neck.

Even at only 7 months old our son was curious, making little noises of pleasure at the feel of Beda's hair under his tiny fingers. I hurried to the stall and returned Bass's smile, though it felt like my face might crack apart under the strain.

"He's going to be a horse lover just like his momma," Bass murmured to me, his grin free and easy.

God how I wished I could do the same.

Nothing had been free or easy since my release from Georgia. I worried constantly for William; that he would be taken away in the night by the men who had tortured me, that he would take ill and die, that he would simply go missing, lost forever.

It had only been three days since our return home and I still felt lost, unmoored and drifting in a sea of emotions that threatened to drown me.

"I woke up and you both were gone," I murmured, trying not to sound angry. "It was frightening," I explained.

Bass's eyes clouded with worry as he looked over, "I'm so sorry baby, I just wanted to spend a little time with William and give you a chance to sleep in. You haven't been sleeping well," he reminded me.

Not that I needed the reminder.

Every night had been plagued with nightmares of icy water and punishing blows. As winter really set in here in the north I could feel the ache in my elbow where it had been broken. It would always serve as a reminder of that time.

I nodded and fought at the tears threatening to fall, "I know. It just…"I took a shaky breath and continued, determined to tell him something of what had happened, "It just reminded me of Georgia. They took him from me to try and negotiate and it backfired spectacularly on them."

Despite the rage in his eyes Bass spoke calmly, "What happened?"

"I was allowed to feed him and spend twenty minutes with him each day. So when the guard brought him, I used a knife I had stolen and stabbed him in the throat. I wrote a note with his blood and told them if they took William back I'd get word to you and the full weight of the Republic would come crashing down on them in a war they'd never forget."

Unsteadily I reached out to stroke William's back, my shoulders relaxing when I felt his tiny body under my hand. He was real. He was alive. He was safe.

Bass shifted and offered William to me without saying anything, his eyes bright with rage. I gently took our son and held him close, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as I inhaled the sweet scent of his skin.

When I opened my eyes again I found Bass wiping at his own, his mouth firm with anger. He stepped closer, motions slow and obvious, allowing me time to stop him. When I didn't he slid an arm around my waist and cupped a hand against William's back, his forehead pressing gently against my temple.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he breathed, "I'm not letting you two go ever again," he promised, sealing it with a kiss brushed lightly against my cheek.

I nodded weakly and managed a smile, "Good. Let's get back inside, your son is hungry and is going to be cold," I told him softly.

Nothing could have spurred Bass to move faster. His hand at my waist guided us, hurrying us through the snow that was falling and back into the building. By the time we were in our suite again William was crying and nuzzling against my chest, eager to be fed.

Bass watched as I shed layers by the fire, sinking down onto the small couch to feed William. He hesitated for a moment and then joined us, a book in his lap and one arm sliding around my shoulders.

When William had taken his fill and fallen asleep I wrapped him tightly and carried him to his new crib, watching him for a moment. His chest rose and fell peacefully; full cheeks flushed red from the warmth of the fire and the fullness of his belly.

Eventually I returned to that couch, leaning gently against Bass as he read. My gaze was captured by the flames, dancing and crackling cheerily. A shiver ran over my skin at the recollection of the icy air this morning.

I don't think I'd ever like the cold again.

Toes curling, I shifted until I was lying against Bass, soft shivers running over my skin. He gently set aside his book and carefully set his arms around me.

"Are you okay Rebecca?" he whispered, sliding a finger under my chin to lift my gaze to his.

I blinked hard against tears and shook my head, unable to speak for a moment.

"What do you need?" he asked softly.

I clutched at his shirt front and shoulder, trying to get closer, aching for the warmth and comfort of his body to chase away the chill that seemed to lodge inside me. "This," I breathed, "just this."

He nodded and held me closer as I slipped between the back of the couch and his body, one of my legs sliding between his. His hand at my back slid beneath my shirt to press against my skin and I gasped softly, shuddering at the contact.

'Too much?" he breathed.

I nodded and then shook my head, confused, overwhelmed. "I…it's okay," I whispered.

It was overwhelming and exactly what I needed, all at once. I yearned for him to hold me tighter and at the same time to be away from the embrace, my skin shivering with the conflicting emotions.

We lay that way until a knock at the door brought us apart, the door swinging open to reveal one of the many people who cleaned and brought our meals. The young man smiled faintly and set our tray of food on the small dining table in our living area before sliding back out the door.

Bass and I ate in near silence, studying each other over our forks. When our plates had been cleared he set the tray outside the door and locked it, motioning to the couch.

"Come here," he murmured.

I followed him and allowed him to pull me into his lap, holding me as the fire crackled. In the distance I hear William cry out softly and rouse. Bass nudged me aside and went to gather him, reappearing a few moments later with our son.

I gladly took him into my arms, lifting my shirt and bra so he could eat. Bass watched, fascinated. "How long does he eat?" he asked softly, "how often?"

I smirked faintly at his curiosity and ran a finger over William's cheek, "It's about four times a day, and it usually takes about half an hour," I told him. He nodded and watched as William was fed, burped and rested comfortably against my shoulder.

"Can I hold him?" Bass asked softly, a yearning expression on his face.

With little hesitation I handed him over, watching as our son wriggled and snuggled against Bass's firm shoulder for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes. Bass's eyes shone with pride as he stroked the tiny back, listening to his son's soft breaths.

"He's amazing," he whispered, "Thank you for bringing him into the world and keeping him safe," he told me. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep you both safe and prevent you from being harmed," he said sadly.

"You won't always be able to keep me safe Bass. People are going to want to hurt us, and if we're lucky we'll survive to see our son grow up," I told him softly. I cuddled against his side and smiled softly when his arm slid around my waist, holding me close.

"I'll do everything I can to keep you safe, as long as you let me," he replied.

With a nod I settled my head against his chest, letting a sense of contentment fill me.

I struggled against the feeling I was a fraud, sitting here in this domestic tableau with my family while I still felt like I could shatter apart at the slightest touch. Hopefully with time I would begin to feel normal again, like myself again.

\-------------------------------

**December 25** **th** **, 2020**

"There have been four more attacks by these rebels. 23 militia were killed and a dozen more injured. We  _have_ to take action or they will cause mass disruption and hysteria within the populace."

Rolling my eyes as Tom postulated, I ran a hand over William's back, trying to bite back sharp words. It seemed in my absence that the council had begun fighting the rebels with increasingly deadlier tactics, and the bloodletting wasn't showing any signs of slowing.

The walls around the city had only grown higher and more secure, Bass's attempt to keep our city safe. His desire to keep both the city and his family safe was pushing him to keep William and me in the city, hardly even allowing us out of the Hall for walks.

Natasha and my guard were with us 24/7, ensuring our safety and keeping us contained.

I hated it.

I felt like I was being suffocated, like I couldn't breathe.

Everywhere I looked militia were following me, watching me, keeping me  _safe_. Bass was adamant that we be kept out of sight, his fears growing each day that we might be kidnapped, hurt or killed.

With a sigh I leaned forward and cleared my throat, gaining the attention of the council. "I'd like to reiterate my desire to see negotiations opened with the rebels. It doesn't have to be done by me, but it does need to be done. My staff is fully prepared to provide ambassadorial services. I can even sit in on the meetings to provide assistance, but we need to do something other than kill each other."

"Ambassador Flynn, there's no need to place yourself in that sort of peril. We aren't interested in negotiating with these terrorists. We are only interested in eradicating this threat to the Republic," Tom responded, smiling tightly.

Swallowing down my anger I nodded slowly, "That may very well be, but if we want to hold onto power and not be seen as tyrannizing, we need to treat with these people, hear their complaints."

"Their complaint is that the Republic exists at all, they want nothing more than anarchy," Bass murmured, his voice hard with annoyance. His mouth was firm as our eyes met and his glance went to our son, "We have too much to protect here to give any credit to these rebels."

Anger furled in my chest and I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. "I understand the dangers of the world, all too well," I snapped back, averting my gaze as my stomach churned.

"Well, I believe we've strayed from the topic at hand. What steps would you like to take next President Monroe?" Tom asked solicitously.

Shoving back my chair I stood and swallowed hard, staring around at the men gathered at the table. "If you'll excuse me, I find I don't have the stomach for this conversation. Ignorance and murder are a little hard to swallow," I spat before adjusting William and exiting the room with as much dignity as I could muster.

William stirred as I slammed the door shut behind me, anger simmering in my veins. I bounced him gently as I paced, trying to keep my anger in. As William settled I carried him to his crib, settling him down gently.

The outer door to the suite opened and closed a minute later and I could hear heavy bootsteps approaching. My hand automatically went to my knife, drawing it as I stepped behind the door, waiting for whoever it was to approach.

When the door swung open I lunged, swinging my knife towards the man, abruptly drawing back when I recognized it was Bass. Huffing angrily I slid the knife back into its sheath and turned away, biting the inside of my cheek hard.

"You shouldn't just walk out like that Becca," he scolded me softly.

"Oh really? I shouldn't leave when my input has no value? Pray tell, why not?" I demanded angrily.

Bass sighed heavily from behind me. "You're being dramatic. Your input is always valued, you know that. Why don't we just discuss this rationally?" he asked, sounding tired.

I whirled around and glared at him, anger simmering in my stomach.

    

" _Rationally_?" I hissed, eyes narrowing. "As opposed to  _irrationally_? Is that what you think of me?" I demanded, my voice growing louder.

Bass's gaze darted to the crib and then back to me, reaching out to snag my arm and drag me from the room. I struggled in his grip, "Let go of me!" I hissed.

When the door to the nursery had closed Bass released me enough for me to rip free. I glared at him, "I'm not acting irrationally Bass and I'd ask you not to treat me like I am. You know I have a point; you just don't want to concede and look weak by negotiating. Quit being an asshole," I snarled.

Bass's eyes darkened with anger and he took a large step forward, crowding into my space. I flinched and recoiled as his body brushed mine, panic sluicing through me. Whirling away, I stumbled and gasped, trying to control my breathing.

"Becca?" Bass called, sounding distant through the panic thudding in my ears.

Sweat beaded coldly on my neck and nausea roiled through me, my chest heaving with the great whooping breaths I was sucking in. Spots danced in my vision and I stumbled against the wall, fingers splayed out, seeking something to hold me together.

A hand descended on my shoulder and I flailed away, whimpering out a protest. "Don't!" I shrieked, flinching and shivering.

Silence descended on the room and I slid to the floor, arms wrapped around my waist as I gasped, sweat making my shirt stick to my skin.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry," I heard Bass murmur, and a moment later he slid to the ground next to me; his head thumping back against the wall. "I'd never hurt you, you know that, right?" he murmured.

I said nothing, still struggling to breath.

"Baby, I love you," he whispered, his hand sliding across the floor towards me. I exhaled sharply and flinched away, shivers running over my skin.

"J-just don't," I breathed, screwing my eyes shut and burying my face in my knees.

Silence grew between us until it was too heavy to bear and I scrambled to my feet, running for the bathroom, stomach heaving.

As I vomited I wept, feeling as though each piece of my body and soul was shattering.

I was broken, and there wasn't any way to repair me.

\--------------------------------

_**AN: I'm please to say that I have two more chapters written and I'll be writing more so the updates should come once a week on Monday's! Monroe Monday's! I like it! Thank you for reading and supporting me, I love reading your reviews and hearing your thoughts. Please keep it up!  
** _


	29. Happy Birthday

**May 3** **rd** **2021**

"You understand why this needs to happen?"

"Yes sir, Texas is a threat to the Republic, and if we don't remove that threat, the Republic will be imperiled."

Miles nodded and rolled his shoulders, "Don't forget, you can't be seen or caught, got it?" he ordered.

Alec nodded and then gave him a buoyant grin, "I won't let you down sir, don't worry," he assured Miles.

I rolled my eyes and shifted my weight, watching the proceedings with annoyance. Miles and Bass stared grimly at Alec, sharing a brief look before Miles escorted the young man out of the room.

   

A few moments later Miles returned and smiled coldly, "He'll be fine, he's a smart soldier," Miles assured Bass.

"I know Miles, it's just a risk. We have a lot to lose if he fails," Bass murmured.

I snorted, "Then don't do it," I told them both.

They shared a look before Miles sighed and came over, his eyes warmer. "Becca, if we don't, we'll end up in a war with Texas and Georgia has been nibbling at our borders…" he sighed, "It's too important for us to just sit back and do nothing."

"If you had just let me negotiate with them, we wouldn't have to send an assassin," I replied tartly, mouth turned down.

Miles sighed heavily and shook his head, "Becca, you know the situation there was too dangerous to let you go," he replied gently.

"And of course too dangerous for any of my staff to go, huh?" I demanded dryly.

"Yes Becca, we've been over this. If we let anyone go to negotiate, they'd end up dead! We had two of our ambassadors there dead in mysterious circumstances, we weren't going to throw good talent into a bad situation."

I glanced over at Bass and narrowed my eyes at him, "Yes thank you Bass, I'm well aware of what happened, I attended the funerals." Glancing back to Miles I sighed and shook my head, "Fine, but the consequences of this are on both your heads."

Stepping away from both men I strode for the door and then paused, glancing over my shoulder, "Don't forget we're having dinner together tonight for William's birthday," I told them.

I shut the door behind me and walked to my office, sinking down behind my desk with a sigh. Rubbing a hand over my face I shook my head and began working, sorting through paperwork and signing where necessary.

A high shriek of laughter pierced the air and a moment later feet pattered rapidly through the hall. With a grin I rose from my chair and walked to my doorway, watching as William ran down the hall towards me.

I quickly knelt and opened my arms, allowing him to run to me. His tiny body barreled into my arms with a shriek of delight. A moment later one of the female militia guards assigned to him raced around the corner laughing, "I'm going to get you!" she cried, eliciting another shriek from William.

I laughed and lifted him into the air, holding him close. "Are you trying to escape Will?" I asked, tickling his side. He giggled and shook his head, "Mama! Play!" he demanded, tugging on a strand of my hair.

I glanced back at my desk; I still had at least another hour of work. Will tapped a hand against my cheek, "Mama, play!" he demanded.

I sighed softly and jostled him, eliciting a laugh, "Okay baby, mama play," I replied, grinning when he shrieked in delight and wriggled in my arms. I set him down and gazed at him solemnly, "You go hide baby, mama will find you!" I told him.

He nodded and took off with a high peal of laughter, his feet pattering against the hardwood floors. I grinned up at Hannah, "Can you go with him and I'll be along shortly."

She nodded and turned on a heel, sprinting after William. A loud peal of laughter filled the hallway and I grinned, turning back into my office and seating myself behind the desk. I worked diligently for another thirty minutes before gathering up my papers and locking the door behind me.

Laughter bubbled out of the bedroom as I shut the suite door behind me and a moment later William came running out of the nursery, Bass fast on his heels. I crouched down and scooped up my son, smiling when he laughed and buried his face in my neck.

"Mama!" he sighed, tiny arms tightening around my neck.

I smiled, satisfaction warming me. No matter how many times I heard his tiny voice, it never failed to bring joy to my heart. Bass smiled softly and came over, reaching out a hand to help me back to my feet.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek, nose brushing against my temple for a moment. "How was your day?" he asked softly.

"Busy. I still have work to do, but I can take care of it after Will is in bed," I told him. He nodded and kissed my temple, hand lingering on my waist. His fingers slid under my shirt, rough skin rubbing against mine as he kissed my neck.

Humming softly I turned and kissed him, smiling against his lips as he made a soft noise of pleasure. After a moment we parted and he took Will out of my arms, "Why don't you have a bath and change before dinner?" he suggested softly.

I nodded and kissed both of their cheeks, smiling when William snuggled into his dad's arms. Stripping as I walked into the bathroom, I grinned when I found the tub already full of hot water. I slid into the hot water and sighed in delight, the scent of the lavender soap filling the air as I scrubbed.

When I had finished with the bath I redressed and braided my hair, going out to find Will and Bass building a fort with his Legos. Smiling softly I waved when Will looked up at me, eagerly pointing to his creation.

"Wook mama! 'ouse!" he announced proudly.

I crouched down and grinned, "I see that baby, it's so wonderful. Are you ready for dinner?" I asked, reaching out to tickle his neck. He squealed and laughed, crawling away and into Bass's laugh.

We shared a look and Bass stood, swooping Will into his arms. "Come on Will, it's time for dinner," he declared, flipping our son so he could growl and nip at his belly. "I'm so hungry!" he growled.

Will giggled and wriggled in Bass's arms, shrieking as his father nuzzled his belly. I grinned and followed them out the door and through the halls to the dining room. When the door was flung open a shout of "Happy Birthday!" echoed out, and William peered around in interest.

A birthday cake flickering with lit candles sat on the table, surrounded by platters of food and our closest friends. Miles, Natasha and a handful of other people stood around smiling, waving to Will.

We began singing Happy Birthday and William giggled as he realized the fuss was about him. Bass carried him to the cake and instructed him to blow out the candles. When he had exhaled and blown out as many of the candles as he could we dug in, allowing him to eat a slice of cake while everyone else ate.

When the party had wound down and William had passed out in my arms, we retreated back to our suite, Bass's hand at my waist. I gently lowered William into his crib, smiling softly as I watched him squirm for a moment before stilling.

A set of strong arms wound around my waist and Bass's lips pressed against my neck, "You're a good mom," he whispered.

I grinned and turned my cheek, eyeing him, "You just noticing?" I teased.

He chuckled, his breath skating over my neck and kissed me, "Never, just complimenting you," he murmured. "You're amazing, you deserve compliments," he whispered.

"Hmm, tell me more," I replied, rolling my hips back against him. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat, his fingers tightening on my waist, pulling me back against him.

"You're so smart, you think three steps ahead of me and it's so sexy," he whispered, his fingers sliding under my shirt and spreading flat against my stomach. His lips pressed against my neck, trailing kisses and nipping softly.

Pleasure flooded me, heat curling through my belly. I sighed and went limp in his grip, sinking into the embrace.

"You're strong, I don't know how you survived this last year baby," he whispered, teeth closing around the shell of my ear, sending a shiver over my skin. "You're incredible," he breathed.

His fingers slid beneath the waistband of my jeans, inching lower until his rough fingers curled against my core, sending a shiver over my body. He slowly began sliding his fingers against my clit and down through my lips, groaning when he felt how wet I was.

I shuddered and arched into his touch, my breathing deepening and becoming heavier. His touch was soft, slow and persistent, leaving me trembling with need.

"N-not here," I breathed, shuddering as a wave of pleasure surged through me, my knees shaking and breath panting.

Bass's fingers curled around my waist and pulled me back, dragging me from the room as he sucked a hot mark against my neck. I moaned as the nursery door shut and Bass pulled me towards the bedroom, still fingering me.

Frankly, I was impressed by his dexterity.

An inane giggle rose in my throat and I turned my head to kiss him as he slid another finger into me, my breath shuddering against his lips. A breath later we were facing each other, stripping off clothing, hands caressing and lips meeting in desperate kisses.

Bass gripped my thigh and lifted it, wrapping it around his waist as he levered me down to the bed. His lips closed around my nipple, sucking on it until I mewled and arched into his touch, pain blurring into pleasure as his tongue flicked over the hardened nub.

I arched my hips into his and huffed in frustration, needing more friction. Bass kissed and nipped his way to my other breast, his other hand sliding across my belly and down to curl around my cunt, his fingers sliding back within me.

I moaned in relief and arched into his caresses, eyes sliding shut as I sank into the pleasure. Bass mouthed at my breast and sucked on the lower swell, nipping as his fingers stroked inside me. Breath punched out of my chest as pleasure swelled within me, a needy whine sliding from my throat.

"You like that baby?" Bass whispered, kissing back up my neck, nipping at my ear.

I shook my head, "More…I need more," I whimpered, rolling my hand against his fingers.

He chuckled and rubbed harder on my gspot, his thumb sliding through my folds until it came to rest on my clit. He left it there, not doing anything and I huffed, "Fuck Bass, come on!" I demanded, writhing under him.

He laughed roughly and sucked my earlobe between his teeth, "Whatsa matter baby?" he teased.

I growled and reached down, wrapping a hand around his wrist, trying to force him to stroke me. "If you don't do something, I'm going to murder you," I hissed.

"Well I'd hate to die without fucking you one last time," he conceded, his lips curling as he kissed me, pulling back to keep it from deepening. I whimpered low in my throat and chased his mouth until he kissed me, his tongue sliding over mine.

His thumb pressed against my clit as his tongue ran along my lower lip and I moaned, pleasure making my legs tremble. His mouth moved slowly against mine as his thumb stroked my clit slowly.

Shivering, I moaned against his lips and rolled my hips, "More," I demanded, voice hoarse with need. Bass growled low in his throat and sucked on my nipple, teeth buffing against the tip until I thrashed, crying out his name.

His fingers inside me curled hard, rubbing and thrusting until I had to lift a hand to bite on my wrist, a choked sob coming out of my chest. Bass worried at my breasts and throat as he fucked me with his fingers, whispering in my ear.

"You're so fucking wet baby," he gasped, grinding his cock against my hip with a moan. "I can't wait to be inside you," he whispered.

My body clenched around his fingers and I shuddered, impatient for him to be inside me. He rubbed harder, almost aggressively, within me and pleasure slammed through me until I arched and cried out, coming hard.

A moment later Bass was covering my body with his, our lips and legs tangling together. He gripped a hip tightly and a moment later slammed home, punching a cry from me. My legs wrapped around Bass's thighs as his fingers curled into my hair, tugging it back until my neck arched and he could suck and bite freely.

Our gasps and moans filled the darkness around us as Bass buried himself in me, his soft curses falling against my skin. My nails bit into his waist as I slammed back against him, whimpering.

A soft cry came from the nursery and I pressed a hand to my forehead, praying William would quiet. "Will is waking," I gasped, "hurry."

Bass huffed against my neck, "It's fine…ignore him…he'll go back to sleep," he gasped breathlessly.

"Just… _harder_ ," I whimpered.

He nodded and palmed a breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. I arched and moaned when his fingers slipped away, heading down to play with my clit. His fingers circled around the throbbing nub until I was aching, begging for more.

William whimpered and cried.

Bass groaned, "Oh Goddammit."

"If…you fucking stop…" I panted, reaching down to hold his hand against my clit, arching to try and get more.

"You'll kill me?"

I bit his throat, eliciting a moan from him.

"Yes."

He choked out a laugh and rubbed harder, hips pounding into mine. I whined and arched into him, gasping his name like a prayer.

William cried louder and I could hear him kicking against the bars of the crib, calling out.

Bass groaned and laughed weakly against my neck as he thrust, "Come on baby," he growled, "cum for me," he ordered.

He pinched my clit between two fingers as he slammed into me, pushing me over the edge and into an orgasm.

"Ahhh!"

"Fuck Becca, yes!" he groaned, hips stuttering as he was fisted by my body, milking him as he came. We moved against each other until exhaustion won out and we collapsed into each other, sweaty limb wrapping around sweaty limb.

William cried louder and Bass laughed against my throat, "I'll get him," he whispered before rolling away, tugging on a pair of briefs before hurrying to the nursery. I listened as he gathered Will into his arms and sat, rocking and singing.

A smile spread on my face, pleasure of a different kind curling through me. Listening to and watching Bass father our son had been the greatest joy of my life. I could see that him bonding and falling in love with his child had healed something in him.

He wasn't the man he had been, he was happier.

I sighed softly and closed my eyes, snuggling into my pillow.

A few minutes later Bass emerged and slid into bed with me, strong arms wrapping around my waist. "What are you smiling about?" he asked softly.

I shook my head faintly, "Nothing. I'm just happy," I replied sleepily.

He pressed his lips against my neck and I could feel his smile.

"Me too baby, me too."

\-----------------------

**November 12th, 2021**

"General Blanchard is alive."

I bit back a groan and reached out for the report being offered, reading over it hastily as the messenger continued.

"Private Alec Penner is believed to be held by Texas, in retaliation for the assassination attempt on General Blanchard. This letter from the General is for you ma'am," the young man murmured, holding it out next.

I took it and read over it, brow furrowing. Blanchard was demanding that Texas be allowed to hold onto Alec and deal with him as they saw fit, hinting strongly that he would be put to death. If we chose to retaliate or try to rescue him, it would be open war.

With a sigh I nodded and gave the man a grave look, "Is there anything else?" I asked tiredly.

He shook his head and I dismissed him, gathering the papers to take with me to Bass and Miles. I strode hurriedly down the hall to Bass's office and knocked twice before entering. He looked up from him desk and smiled softly, gaze warm.

"What is it?" he asked, "I didn't expect to see you yet today," he admitted.

I nodded and handed him the letters before seating myself across from him, waiting for his reaction. His brow furrowed as he read and a moment later a heavy sigh pushed out of his chest. His eyes were sad as they lifted to mine.

"I had high hopes for Private Penner, but it seems instead we've lost a good man," he murmured.

I nodded, "I'll speak with treasury and Miles and make sure his family is compensated for his loss."

"He doesn't have any family. He was orphaned by the blackout," Bass murmured. He sighed and shook his head, "Miles will be upset."

I frowned, "I'll tell him then."

"Are you sure?" Bass asked, looking surprised.

"Yea, he's a big brother, he deserves to hear this from me. He'll need someone to hold onto, even if he won't admit it."

Bass nodded and then sighed, shaking his head.

"He was a good kid."

I smiled sadly and leaned over his desk to kiss him softly before turning, my heart heavy.

"They all are," I murmured, mouth tight as I recalled everyone we had lost to build this Republic.

Head high and shoulders stiff, I went to find Miles and deliver the news of yet more loss.

\-------------------------

"You know if you tell us what we need to know, you'll be set free. You can go home. Back to your family."

I watched as her face flickered with grief, deep lines carved around her eyes as they shadowed with pain, her gaze darting away from mine.

"I'm sure they miss you, wondering where you are, if you're even alive. If you'd just do what we ask, we could send out a letter to them, make sure they know you're ok."

Hope flickered on her face for a moment before brutally being shut away, her eyes hardening with resolve. Her shoulders straightened and she flattened her palms against the desk, lifting her eyes to mine.

Stormy blue-grey eyes held mine, anger making them look the surface of the ocean during a storm. I knew her so well, knew that the anger pent up inside her would be tempered and honed, primed for release at the right moment.

Her words would cut, aimed to destroy like the most tactical of bombs.

"I'm dead to them Miles, just like you were to me before you started hunting me. I guess there's nothing left of you but the butcher you're infamous for being," she hissed, her words laced with poisonous anger.

"Then you should respect when I tell you that if you insist on refusing us, you won't find yourself in such comfortable settings."

I hated this.

I didn't want to threaten her, I wanted to take her from these dank cells and set her free, off to be safe with her family. But she held the key to everything.

To restoring the power.

"Rachel, please," I beseeched softly, hoping she would see reason.

Her gaze flickered away from mine and she swallowed hard before glaring at me.

"Go to hell Miles."

I stared at her for a long time, carefully studying her face, remembering it and then tucking away all my emotions. With a sharp nod I turned on my heel and waved a hand towards the guards, giving them a decisive nod.

"So be it Rachel," I murmured.


	30. The Push

****

**May 3** **rd** **2022**

"I don't see why we need to celebrate his birthday in Baltimore. He's too young to remember it, and it's not safe outside the city. What if something happens?" Bass demanded brow furrowed with concern.

I smiled softly and handed William a block so he could add to his small tower. "Bass, we're already here, and nothing is going to happen, can you please just relax?" I asked softly.

He frowned and peered out the window of the house, studying the streets. I could see the concern written on his face and watched him for a moment, his worry making a knot form in my stomach. He and Miles had been pursuing the rebels for years now, throwing all of our excess resources at the problem, but with little luck.

The Plains Nations were unifying and showing signs they were going to try and attack us, and the tensions with Texas certainly weren't helping matters, nor were our hostilities with Georgia…it seemed like we were surrounded on all sides by our enemies.

"There have been an uptick in rebel attacks here, I'm just worried," he murmured.

Sighing, I rose and went to him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, speaking softly. "I know babe, but we've got 100 of my personal guard, and an additional 50 regular militia. There's a barracks down the street and the navy is here. We couldn't be more safe," I told him.

His head drooped forward as his hands covered mine, a deep sigh escaping him.

"I just don't like chancing your safety or Will's," he replied quietly. "Not after Georgia," he murmured, his back shuddering with raw emotion. I tightened my arms around him, momentarily recalling the torture I had been put through at the hands of the Georgia Federation.

Sighing softly against his back I shook my head, "I know. But Norah and Miles will be there too. We literally couldn't be in better hands," I told him with a faint smile.

"We're going to have a nice birthday without any more worrying about the rebels or outside forces, okay?" I murmured. "William doesn't know anything that's been happening, and the last thing we need is for his birthday to be ruined by our worrying."

Bass made a soft noise and then shook his head, "I'm sorry, I don't want to ruin his birthday. I'm just worried," he said softly.

I loosened my arms and stepped around to face him, reaching a hand up to his cheek, smiling faintly. "I'm not upset with you for being worried Bass. You're a good father, and you have reasons to be worried. I'm just asking that we trust our friends and our security. We'll be  _fine_ ," I told him softly, emphatically.

The lines on his face were deeper and he looked weary, I stroked his cheek gently, worrying that he was working too hard, that things were taking a toll on him. Maybe another vacation was in order.

He sighed and stared down at me for a moment before smirking faintly. "You think Miles and Norah will ever get married?" he asked.

I laughed and smiled wryly, lifting my hand to show him my ring, "Babe, we haven't even gotten married. At this point I consider you to be my partner, my lover, my rock."

"You're my husband and I don't need a ceremony to make it official, and I doubt Miles or Norah do either," I told him with a smile.

Bass wrapped his fingers around mine, drawing my hand to his mouth to brush a kiss against my knuckles. His eyes were worried, sad.

"Are you sure you don't need the ceremony?" he murmured.

I nodded and twisted my fingers to rub his ring, "We've got the rings, we've got each other, and we have our family. Why would we need more?" I retorted warmly.

A smile burst onto his face, his sea storm eyes bright.

"I love you," he murmured before leaning in for a kiss.

"Daddy! Pway wit me!"

I snickered against Bass's lips and lifted a brow, "You're being summoned," I drawled.

He grinned and turned away, contorting his face into a grimace, clawing his hands and snarling.

"The monster is going to get you!" he snarled playfully, drawing shrieks of delight from Will. Our son leapt to his feet and ran around the room, laughing and shrieking as Bass chased him, snarling and huffing like a monster.

I giggled and watched them play, wishing I had a camera for moments like these. I wanted to be able to capture them and hold onto them forever.

This simple love of our family, it meant everything.

\---------------------------

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear William, Happy Birthday to youuuuu!"

We all sang together, slightly off key and more than a little exuberantly after many glasses of wine and bourbon. But the look on William's face as he got to blow out the candles on his cake was…perfect.

I sighed in contentment and leaned against Bass's shoulder, snuggling into his side. Miles cut the cake and handed Will his piece, the table bursting into laughter as our young son dove in, smashing cake into his face.

Blue icing smeared over his face and crumbs of chocolate cake dusted his shirt and hair. He was a glorious little mess and I loved every inch of him. Glancing back at Bass I met his gaze warmly and wondered if maybe it was time to start trying for a baby brother or sister for William.

I laughed internally, remembering a time when having a child would have sent me running for the hills. Now here I was thinking about adding another to our family, despite the trauma of William's birth.

I frowned softly thinking of it, reaching a gentle hand out to brush crumbs from his small chest, smiling when he held a fist full of cake out to me, "Cake mama!" he declared around a mouthful of said substance.

Snickering, I nodded and watched as he continued eating, joy sneaking back into my heart. No matter how scary, awful and traumatic William's birth had been, it didn't lessen my desire for another child.

Glancing away I smiled; Norah gazed longingly at William and then at Miles, her heart clearly in her eyes. I nudged her foot with mine and smiled softly when she flushed and coughed, avoiding my gaze as she took another drink.

I stared at them contemplatively, thinking about what their kids could look like. Damn cute, especially if they took after Norah.

I smirked and chuckled, looking over at William as he ate his cake gleefully. I leaned over and brushed some crumbs from his hair, laughing softly when he only responded by shoving more cake into his mouth.

"Hey Miles, you remember your 21st?" Bass asked with a grin.

"Spring break," Miles murmured, a smile growing on his lips.

"Ft. Lauderdale," Bass replied, grin growing wider.

"Do I want to hear this story?" Norah asked wryly.

Bass boomed out a laugh and slapped Miles on the shoulder, "That girl, that stripper with one leg," he declared, laughing.

Miles flushed but nodded, laughing uneasily, "The one leg," he agreed.

"Yea. Her name was Sierra."

"Yup"

"And she could  _move_ ," Bass drawled, arching his brows in heavy innuendo.

I smirked and shook my head, sharing a put upon look with Norah.

Miles smirked, "I got one," he replied. Bass looked wary this time and I bit back a laugh. "Your ninth birthday," he told Bass.

A warm smile crossed Bass's face, a look of remembrance filling his eyes. "My ninth?"

"Yea the infamous dodge ball party," Miles replied, swallowing a mouthful of bourbon.

Bass grinned, "Oh yea, and I gave Brian Duffy a concussion," he remembered.

"Sounds like a hell of a time," I quipped, grinning when both men laughed and shared a knowing look.

"That was one of your worst cakes ever," Miles told Bass.

"Coconut isn't so bad," Bass replied, smiling fondly.

"Ugh no way," Norah interjected, shaking her head. Miles smiled fondly at her and joined in on the sentiment, making a noise of disgust.

"Cake!" William declared, pounding a hand on his empty plate, giving us a frosting covered grin.

We all shared a look and then burst out laughing.

Bass ruffled his hair and reached out, cutting another slice of cake and transferring it to his plate. "Enjoy buddy, it's your birthday," he encouraged.

"You're giving him a bath and putting him to bed," I warned as Will dug into the second slice of cake. "If he ever goes to sleep," I muttered, "too much sugar."

Bass pressed a kiss to my hair, smiling. "Shh, I'll do it happily," he murmured. "He deserves a normal birthday, right?" he whispered in my ear.

I nodded and laughed at something Miles said, leaning my head on Bass's shoulder. Our group was in high spirits, laughing and talking as we enjoyed the last remnants of cake and bourbon.

It was a birthday to remember.

In the distance I heard glass shattering and glanced over my shoulder, frowning, trying to see where the broken cup or plate was.

People moved and shifted, blocking my view. After a moment I shrugged and turned away, smiling and laughing as I caught the tail end of another Bass/Miles childhood story.

Then, the world exploded.

My head slammed into the ground as a hail of fire and debris rained down on us, searing where it landed, flesh tearing and burning.

I screamed and struggled, making my way halfway upright, trying to get to William when a secondary explosion rippled through the building.

Heat pressed against my skin and my head slammed into the ground and everything went—

\--------------------------------

**_Whooosh….whiiiiiish…..whooosh….whiiiiish…._ **

_The….ocean? Is that the ocean? Why am I at the ocean?_

I inhaled and was immediately overcome by agony, a wretched cry slipping between dry, chapped lips. My eyes fluttered open and my hand worked its way weakly towards my face, feeling like it weighed a ton.

My hand collapsed to the ground as my chest heaved, waves of nausea and dizziness rolling through me. It felt like hours passed until I had the strength to lift my hand again and reach for my face, trying to feel the damage.

When the pads of my fingers brushed over my forehead I inhaled sharply, pulling away. There was a large cut on my head and blood was coating half my face. Through the whooshing and whishing noise in my head I could faintly hear someone shouting.

William…Bass…I had to make sure they were ok.

Rolling onto my back slowly, I winced at the pain in my back and ribs as I tried to sit up.

The whooshing and whishing noise grew louder as I sat up and it occurred to me distantly that it was likely my heartbeat along with damage to my eardrums.

Black spots appeared in my vision and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head.

William. I had to find my son.

When my vision had cleared I looked around, inhaling sharply. The devastation surrounding me took my breath away.

The front half of the restaurant was just…gone.

The bar and the ruins of the tables were on fire and bodies lay everywhere.

William.

My gaze darted around the room… ** _where_** …there was Miles propping up Norah; blood on both their faces… ** _was_** …Bass was…I rose to my knees at the sight of Bass holding something and crawled over, a pit of dread in my stomach….a rushing noise filled my head as I took in the sight of Bass holding…

"William?" I whispered.

Tears streamed down Bass's face as he looked up at me, holding our son's lifeless body.

Something in me shuddered and quaked, cracking wide open.

I reached for William, snatching him from Bass's arms to press against my chest and a howling noise filled the room. As I rocked my baby and Bass wrapped his arms around us both, it came to me distantly that the howling was from me.

"My son! Noooooooooooo!"

I wept and rocked, stroking his bloodstained face, praying for him to come back to life, for this to be a terrible misunderstanding.

"William…no no no," I whimpered, pressing my forehead to his.

The sound of gunfire rang in the distance and the shouts of men filled the air, growing louder.

"Bass, Becca, we need to go, it's not safe here."

Bass made a faint noise of agreement and pulled on my shoulders, dragging me to my feet. His arm remained tight around my shoulders as we beat a hasty retreat, leaving death and destruction behind us.

I glanced back just once; the bright blue icing of the cake on William's plate somehow still intact.

\--------------------

I was numb; the only feeling in my body was the unbelievable lightness in my arms that used to be my son.

We had made it back to our safe house nearly an hour ago and in that time the local militia had been dispatched to find out who had tried to kill us. Miles and Norah were in their rooms recovering; both had concussions and wouldn't be able to travel for at least a day.

I reclined against the wall, holding my son's corpse in my arms as Bass strode around the room shouting orders at the militia, sending them scurrying as he spat orders. When the room finally emptied and he was facing away, his shoulders slumped heavily, his head dropping low.

Long moments of silence passed until they were broken by the sound of his sob. His knees crumpled and I watched as he fell to the floor, one hand grasping desperately at the wall for some sort of support.

His shoulders heaved as he sobbed, loud, broken noises.

I clutched William…what remained of him…closer and buried my face against his neck, tears of my own falling heavily. As I breathed unsteadily I smelled under the copper bitter scent of blood, gunpowder and death, the scent of his skin; so familiar that it made my already broken heart shatter into dust.

I gasped for breath, clutching desperately at him, agony tearing through every inch of my soul. It built until my body couldn't contain it anymore, shattering outwards in a guttural scream of agony.

My wail went on unbroken for a long moment until I lost my breath and collapsed over the tiny body in my arms, shuddering.

Black spots swam in my vision, my chest heaving unsteadily and I grew lightheaded with grief until the blackness rushed over me and I succumbed to it gladly.

\------------------------------

_**AN: So this is based off that flashback when the rebels bomb the bar that Bass and Miles are in and almost kill them. I always thought that though that was terrible, it didn't merit Bass's reaction. I know he and Miles are friends, but I just thought he would need a bit more of a push to drop over into the deep end. So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please, grace me with some comments!  
** _

 


	31. Retribution

**November 10** **th** **, 2022**

"It took me six months, but I've found the men responsible for the attack. They tried to hide but we rooted them out like the cancer they are." Bass's hands were tucked behind his back as he paced, his eyes glittering with some mad delight.

He waved to the hooded figures and smiled darkly, "These people provided material support to our enemies, fostered hate and rebellion within the Republic, nearly killed myself and the Ambassador, and murdered our son."

His gaze flickered to mine and I saw fathomless pain in the depths of his sea green eyes. My stomach was bitter, watching the spectacle before us. Miles stood straight next to me, hands behind his back, eyes forward, the General persona hiding any emotion he might be feeling.

"For these crimes, they are sentenced to death." Bass turned and nodded to the militia members standing at the ready, guns clutched at their sides. The men lifted their rifles and pointed them at the dozen men, women and children.

"Fire!" Bass shouted, watching eagerly as the militia fired, the report of the guns making me flinch.

My hand darted out to wrap around Miles's, clenching as they continued to fire until the bodies hung limply from the posts. My stomach trembled, bile rising in my throat until I was forced to turn and hurry away, running through the halls to my room until I was safe, the door slamming shut behind me.

Retching into the pot in the bathroom I wept bitterly, fear and anger making me shake. Curling on the cold tile of the floor I sobbed, arms wrapped around my chest as I tried to hold myself together.

The hole that had been in my chest since the death of William was raw around the edges, throbbing angrily, my insides felt like they were being chewed up. I shuddered and gasped, tears rolling down my face as I pressed my forehead into the tile, a low moan scraping against my throat.

I don't know how much time passed till I felt a pair of arms wrap around me, strong and hard. I was pulled into an embrace, my face falling against a firm chest and a large hand stroked my hair, hushing me softly.

"Shh Becca, I'm here."

At the sound of Miles's voice I gasped and looked up at him through my tears, fingers winding around the lapels of his jacket. "M-miles…he-he's a m-monster," I gasped, shuddering and crying.

Miles sighed and shook his head, "He's hurting Becca, just like you. You both lost William, he needs you now," he whispered. "He's just trying to fix that hurt," he told me.

"By  _murdering_ two whole families?" I snarled, hiccoughing as I struggled to breathe, "Their children?!" I shouted, shoving him away as I rose to my feet. He followed me, reaching out a hand to comfort but I spun away, eluding him.

"How does grief translate into murdering  _children_?" I shouted, running a hand through my hair as I glared up at my friend.

Miles frowned and shook his head, "He had the perpetrators of your son's murder put to death, don't you care about that?" he demanded.

"Of course I care! I care that I didn't get to tell them exactly what they took from me. I care that they were put to death without any real trial! I care that their children were put to death to keep them from avenging their parents in the future."

I slapped a hand against Miles's chest and glared, "That's the kind of shit dictators do when they commit genocide," I snarled.

Miles huffed heavily, "I know Becca, I  _know_ ," he murmured, "But he's just as broken as you are right now. He needs us both," he told me.

Shoving him away I shook my head and wiped angrily at the tears on my face. "Get out Miles."

"Becca…"

"GET OUT!" I screamed, whirling to punch him, growling when he evaded my fist, my other hand whirling up to slap his face, nails raking into his skin. "Get out! Get out!" I shrieked, pushing and shoving until he was stumbling out the door, slamming it shut in his startled face.

Turning the lock, I slumped to the ground and broke out into fresh sobs, burying my face in my arms. I wept until I was exhausted, curling on the floor and cried myself to sleep.

\----------------------------

**December 12** **th** **2022**

"We've received word from Texas they would like to open up negotiations for a treaty. I know tensions have been high with them, but this is an opportunity for us to form a powerful alliance. If we open up trade we can get fruit and beef, guns and ammunition, all things we've needed."

I leaned forward and looked at the faces of the men on the council, watching as they either nodded or shook their heads. I had about a 50% support from what I could see, but if Bass decided to veto my plan, well, I'd be screwed.

"What does Texas want in return?" Bass asked, leaning forward to stare at me.

I avoided his gaze and peered around the table once more, "They are looking to receive medical aid. We have doctors and medicine they need, and they are willing to be very generous in trade."

"And what would the Republic do without these doctors and this medicine? Should we let our own people suffer and die to help our enemies?" Bass asked sharply, slapping a hand against the table and I flinched, turning my jaw to glare at him.

"Of course not, but we have the manpower to have our doctors go there for a year and train their staff. They can show them how we make medicine and aid them until they are better equipped to handle the outbreaks of malaria and swine flu they've been experiencing. The benefits far outweigh the risk," I explained through gritted teeth, struggling not to snap at him.

"I agree with the Ambassador," Jeremy murmured, flashing me a tiny smile before looking around the table. "We've still got Georgia as an enemy to the south, and the Plains Nations have been knocking at our door for years. With Texas as an ally instead of an enemy we'd have supplies we need and we'd be safer."

As more members of the council expressed their agreement, Bass's face grew stormy. "And who would lead this diplomatic expedition?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

I lifted a brow at him, "Me, of course."

"Of course. Because no one but you can act as an ambassador for the Republic," he snapped.

"Not at all. But our best ambassadors are spread through Canada, working on getting a treaty formed with the nations that have formed there. If you want this done right, you need me," I told him sharply, a grim smile on my face.

His face went blank but I could see the rage in his eyes, in the way he held himself so still he looked like a statue. Our gazes were locked, the tension growing until he growled low in his throat and shook his head, "You're not going," he snapped, expression daring me to argue.

Heat bubbled under my skin at his tone.

"You want another war we can't afford? You want more militia to die? More children?" I snapped, ignoring the low murmur that went around the table. Bass rose half out of his chair and slammed a hand into the table, glaring at me.

"Enough!" he shouted, "Enough! You aren't going, and that's final!" he growled.

Leaping to my feet I leaned toward him, glaring darkly. "Screw. You." I snarled. Whirling away, I strode angrily from the room, heart thrumming so hard it made my head pound. I slammed my bedroom door shut and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

Slamming a hand against the door I wiped angrily at my tears before going and pulling out my canvas travel bag, shoving in winter clothes and lighter summer linens. Travelling to Texas would take nearly a month, if we pushed the horses.

When my bag was nearly full a rap at the door had me pausing before shaking my head and resuming packing.

"Becca?"

Miles's voice filtered through the wood, concern tingeing his voice. He rapped again, "Becca, let me in," he called.

Zipping the bag shut I grabbed my gun and went to the door, throwing it open to glare at Miles. He stared down at me, eyes lingering on the gun in my hand before he sighed and gave me a tired look.

"You gonna use that on me, huh Becca?" he asked softly.

Scowling up at him I scoffed, "No Miles, but I'm leaving and anyone who gets in my way will regret it." I shook my head at him, turning away to grab my bag off the bed, pulling my heavy jacket off the hook by the door.

Miles had followed me into the room and now he reached out, grabbing onto my bag, pulling to stop me. "Becca, don't,  _please_ , don't go," he murmured, hurt inundating his voice, his brow furrowed.

My chest ached at the sorrow in his eyes and I glanced aside, shaking my head. "I can't stay Miles. I can't. He's not my husband anymore, he's gone."

"If you leave that'll be true. He won't ever be himself again if you leave Becca, you'll break what's left of his heart," he whispered, voice choking.

Tears welled in my eyes and I struggled against them, pain breaking my heart open and scraping out my insides. With a shuddering breath I shook my head and pulled my bag from his grip.

"I can't Miles."

I hoisted the bag onto my shoulder and fled down the hall to Natasha's room, pounding a fist against the door until she opened it, looking unsurprised to see me. Behind her I spotted a half packed bag and an array of weapons.

She glanced over me and then nodded, "Give me five minutes," she murmured.

Relief spread through me and I nodded sharply, "I'll go gather the doctors and medicine. You get twenty more to ride with us. We leave in thirty minutes," I ordered.

She nodded and we parted, her to resume packing, me to gather our medical team. Thirty minutes later there were thirty of us, saddled and riding out of the city, five extra horses carrying medical supplies and food for the journey.

Leaving in the dead of winter made the trip far more dangerous, but I wasn't going to wait another hour. I didn't want to give Bass time to shut the city down and prevent me from leaving.

Glancing back over my shoulder I frowned at the city as it disappeared from sight. We had days until we were out of the Republic, days in which Bass could send men after us, after me.

Straightening in the saddle I urged Beda faster and didn't look back again.

\-----------------------

"What do you mean she's  _gone_?" Bass shouted, eyes flashing.

"She took twenty of her personal guard and fled the city with ten nurses and doctors, along with medical supplies and enough food to get them to Austin."

I watched as Bass paced, shaking his head like an angry bull, his hair in disarray from running his hands through it so many times.

"Send the militia after her. Bring her back," he ordered, growling out the words.

Sighing heavily I shook my head, "Bass, you know that's a bad idea. Tell the council you ordered her to go and avoid a mess." Stepping forward I grabbed him, shaking him until he looked up at me, eyes wide, glistening with unshed tears and anger.

"Bass, she's not just your Ambassador, she's your wife. She had her heart broken and she needs space. You both do. If you force her back here she'll pull even further away. You have to let her go for now," I murmured.

I watched as he seemed to crumple, his face falling as he choked, clutching my shoulder as he turned away, a broken sob coming from his chest.

His voice was broken when he spoke again, "I-I've lost them…I got…I got nothin left," he stuttered out, sobbing.

My throat burned with unshed tears and I grabbed him, pulling him into a tight embrace as he shuddered and wept. Tears rolled down my own cheeks as Bass howled in agony, his hands clutching desperately at my back.

"Nothin…nothing," he sobbed.

Choking on my breath I cleared my throat, "You've got me Bass," I murmured. "I won't leave."

He stilled and pulled back, wiping furiously at his face tears still falling as he nodded, "You're my brother Miles, I know you won't," he whispered.

I sighed heavily and nodded, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder tightly.

"Never," I murmured.

\---------------------------

**January 22** **nd** **2023**

Men in Stetsons surrounded us, aiming rifles at our heads as we slowed our horses. Leaning forward I waved a hand in greeting, "I'm Ambassador Rebecca Flynn of the Monroe Republic. Your President extended us an invitation to form a treaty. I'm here to supply medical aid and work on said treaty."

The men regarded us for a moment before nodding and waving us forward, leading us into the city. It had taken just over a month to get to Austin, and once again I was in sweltering heat, heat that reminded me of Atlanta.

A shiver passed over my skin at the thought and I pushed aside my nausea, swallowing hard as we approached the Capitol Building. At the foot of the Capitol a handsome man stood waiting, smiling warmly at us.

As I slid from my saddle he removed his hat and stepped forward, extending a hand. "Ambassador Flynn, we've heard so much about you. I didn't think you were coming after our last letters with your government," he murmured.

I shook his hand and smiled softly, "There was some back and forth about our position, but eventually the President saw that the alliance would be beneficial to us both." I hesitated for a moment and then smiled wryly, "I'm sorry, I don't think I know your name, unless it was told to me recently in which case, I'm not even sure of my name after being on the road for a month," I joked.

The man laughed and shook his head, "Not to worry Ambassador, I failed to introduce myself. I am Ambassador Miguel Herrera," he murmured, extending his hand once again with a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you Ambassador Herrera," I replied softly, "Do you think we could get some rest and food before we begin negotiations?" I asked cautiously.

Miguel grinned, "Of course! You have been on the road for weeks. We will have baths drawn up for you and your fighters, if you'd like, we're having dinner this evening to celebrate your arrival. If you are too tired to join us, we would of course understand and hold no grudge against you for it."

Sighing softly I nodded, "We would appreciate baths and time to recuperate. We will be happy to join you for dinner, it is much appreciated," I told him with a tired smile.

Miguel laughed and reached out, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "Excellent! Please, let me show you to your quarters, our stable hands will take care of your horses."

Grinning at Miguel's enthusiastic kindness I slung my canvas bag off Beda and followed, glancing back to make sure Natasha was behind me. She nodded sharply, gathering her bags and the remainder of mine, uttering short directions to the rest of our guard before following after us.

Miguel talked as we walked, pointing out landmarks in the distance, chattering about the history of the building, how Austin had survived the blackout, every topic under the sun it seemed until we were lead to a thick oak door.

Miguel pulled a key out of his pocket and handed it to me, his expression solemn now. "This is the only key to your quarters. No one here has another, it's private and safe. If you need anything, you need only ask and we will do our best to accommodate. Your personal guard has a small room off yours, and your guardswomen have quarters all in this hall. Is this satisfactory to you?" he asked.

Smiling softly I nodded, "Thank you Miguel, this is more than satisfactory. I appreciate all you've done to make us comfortable."

"Think nothing of it. I'll have water heated and sent to your rooms for baths; dinner will be at 7pm. If you need anything before then, my quarters are three halls away. Take a left up ahead, then a right, and then a left. It's the third door on the right," he informed me, rocking on his heels before nodding and walking away, leaving Natasha and I to stare after him.

Pushing the door open I glanced around, smiling softly at the warmth and luxury within the room.

"Nice digs," Natasha commented from behind me, grinning as she went to the door on the far side of the living area, pushing it open to find a small bedroom.

Walking across the living area to the other door, I opened it and smiled at the small bedroom. It had a bed with a soft looking mattress, a mattress that called to me after a month on the road. Tossing my bag on the floor I began to strip until I was down to my tank top and underwear, laying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

Bare feet on hard wood whispered and then the mattress sank beside me as Natasha lay back, staring up at the ceiling too.

"You know I wouldn't presume to tell you what to do," she murmured.

Smirking, I turned my head to lift a brow at her, "That's literally the definition of your job. To tell me what to do so I don't die," I told her. She snorted and ducked her chin in a nod of agreement before continuing.

"Right, well, still, I wouldn't tell you how to run the Republic. But did you think maybe, that running away from your husband might make things worse?" she murmured.

I inhaled sharply and turned my head away, brow furrowing as I struggled not to cry. My voice cracked as I spoke, "Of course I considered that Nat, I also considered that if I stayed I might end up hurting us both. I love Bass, but I'm so broken right now that being around him, feeling all this anger and sorrow and, and,  _hurt_ …it just kills me," I whispered.

Tears leaked out slowly and I muffled my weeping with a hand over my mouth. A gentle hand wrapped around my free hand, squeezing it tightly as I cried.

"I'm sorry Becca," Nat whispered.

We lay in silence for a few minutes until she spoke again.

"I don't know if you remember, but I had a kid. Older than William, about ten when the power went. He was kind and funny and sweet, and he loved to play with puzzles and create things. It was his ideas that saved us more than once, kept us from drinking contaminated water or food that wasn't good."

She sighed and laughed softly, "My Marcus, he knew so much more than me about science and all that, if he had lived he probably would have been sent ahead to high school."

Her voice grew sad, "But his little tricks and ideas couldn't save him from the men who attacked our encampment. He was too little, but he fought back anyway, trying to protect me." She struggled for a moment before continuing.

"The men killed him and then raped me. They took everything I had and left me for dead. I almost did die," she admitted, voice bitter. "But eventually I got stronger and started training, fighting, making myself stronger. I had let my guard down and had paid the price. After that I vowed never to do so again."

She stopped speaking for a few minutes and then sighed, "So maybe I can understand why President Monroe chose to act as he did with the families of those who killed your boy. If I had the chance…" she trailed off and I could hear the unsaid thought.

She would do exactly the same.

It perturbed me to hear such a brutal admission from Nat, even with her being my head of security and fully capable of killing someone with her bare hands.

To hear that she agreed with Bass's decision, threw my whole world out of whack.

A knock at the door sent us both to our feet, Natasha brandishing a knife, my gun gripped tightly as we stepped out to the main door. Natasha nodded at me and went to the door, keeping the knife tucked behind her back as she answered it.

A group of men and women stood outside, holding large steaming buckets of water. "For your baths, ma'am," one of the woman murmured.

Natasha studied them for a moment and then ushered them into the room, watching as they went to each of our bathrooms and filled the tubs. When they had departed we shared a grin and quickly turned to our own bathrooms.

I stripped off my remaining clothing and slid into the water, scrubbing with the soap and shampoo provided until the water was grey and I was toweling off happily. My skin smelled like cranberries and citrus, a festive scent that made me crave thanksgiving turkey.

With a wry laugh I wrapped a towel around myself and went to my bags, dumping the clothes onto the bed as I searched for the appropriate outfit for the party tonight. After some debate I pulled out a summery cotton dress that hung to the knees, stretchy lace bike shorts for underneath, and my boots.

It wouldn't be the most fashionable outfit, but I would be able to wear my thigh holsters and run if necessary, though it was never something I hoped for. Brushing out my wet hair, I braided it and dressed, reclining on my bed with a packet of papers I had brought with me to review.

The details of the treaty wouldn't be hammered out until later, but I was sure that we would begin discussing them tonight. Sighing softly I turned my attention to my work and tried to keep my mind off my husband and dead son.

\---------------------------------

People laughed and chattered happily, winding in and out of the Spanish oaks, enjoying the bbq pig and cow, the smells of the homemade food filling the air until my stomach rumbled loudly.

"I believe your stomach is letting us know it's time to eat," Miguel teased. I flushed and followed him to the line of people filling their plates, taking all of what was offered, surprise rippling through me when a cold beer was offered.

Miguel led me to a small table under one of the oaks, waving a hand for me to sit before he joined me. Natasha sat nearby, keeping a close, watchful eye.

"It's been years since I've seen a beer that wasn't skunked or warm," I told him before taking a sip, the cold carbonation tickling my throat as the flavor of the hops washed over my tongue. My eyes slid shut and I groaned softly, "Good lord Miguel, this is incredible," I murmured happily.

He laughed and I opened my eyes to find him regarding me fondly, "It's been a long time since I've had the occasion to see someone enjoy something so simple, I am glad we could share a drink," he murmured, lifting his beer for a toast.

I tapped my glass bottle against his and sighed happily as I took another sip, reveling in the taste. As I ate we talked, discussing the crops, livestock and economies of our respective nations without delving into deeper topics.

Each time I turned the conversation in that direction, Miguel gently moved us away and to other topics. After the fourth time I frowned softly at him, "Don't you want to begin negotiations or at least discuss what we'll be talking about?" I asked, confused.

He grinned softly and shook his head, "No Madame Ambassador, I don't. I wish for you to enjoy our hospitality and rest tonight. Tomorrow we can begin if you still wish. I have no desire to rush the process or force you to work after such an arduous journey."

I stared at him in confusion, and it must have been an amusing expression because he laughed, shaking his head before he rose and waved a hand, "Here, come, follow me," he ordered gently.

Hesitantly I followed him, stiffening as we approached the disparate grove of trees where lanterns were strung in the branches shedding light on the groups of people dancing merrily. Miguel paused when he notice my hesitation, grinning at me.

"Don't tell me you're going to refuse," he teased.

I glared at him, "I don't know how to square dance, we don't do that where I'm from," I snapped, rolling my shoulders uncomfortably. Eyes were landing on us and I was growing anxious, I didn't want to cause a scene, but I  _really_  didn't want to have to do this.

Miguel grinned softly, "How  _do_  you dance in the Republic?" he ribbed.

Snorting I shook my head, "We don't much, but when we do it's mostly waltzing and slow dancing. None of  _this_ ," I muttered, waving a hand towards the people swirling around nonsensically.

Miguel laughed and scrubbed a hand over his mouth, "Alright, well, what if I promise to show you how? We'll go on a slower song," he promised.

I frowned and watched the people for a minute before nodding reluctantly, "Yea, ok," I acquiesced. He nodded in satisfaction and after a minute left my side to approach the band, murmuring to the band leader, their easy grins making me nervous.

"Dancing as negotiation?"

I huffed a breath and glanced over at Nat, grinning humorlessly. "I guess so. Though he seems more intent on welcoming me and making sure we're all relaxed than in negotiating any treaty."

Nat nodded and watched the people dance as Miguel worked his way back to us, talking and laughing with folks as he went.

"Maybe he likes you," she murmured as he approached and I looked over at her sharply before turning a slightly softer look on Miguel.

He smiled softly and sidled up between us, glancing over at Natasha with a warm grin, "Ma'am," he murmured with a nod of his head. "You know, we've got a couple real tall strapping boys around here that are interested in dancing with a beautiful woman like yourself," he told her.

I bit back a laugh, imagining Natasha biting the heads off the men like a female praying mantis. Her eyes darted to me and I saw dark humor in her gaze before she smiled faintly at Miguel, "If they wish to dance with me, they had better have the balls to come ask me themselves," she murmured.

Miguel grinned and then laughed sharply, nodding, "I like you very much ma'am," he confided and a moment later was swinging towards me, holding out a hand, "Shall we?" he asked, lifting a brow.

Choking on a protest I swallowed hard, eyes darting to the dancers as the music slowed. Christ I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to look like a damned fool, and that was the thing that made me the most nervous about this situation.

With a heavy sigh I slipped my hand into his and rolled my eyes when he laughed with glee, pulling me out into the crowd of people. They parted around us and while there were some side long looks and some murmured comments, most people resumed dancing without real incident.

Miguel pulled me beside him and pointed to his feet, "Okay, follow my direction, shuffle left, tap your heel forward twice, shuffle right, tap your heel forward twice, hands on your hips and  _turn_ ," he instructed.

When I inevitably went the wrong way he laughed and guided me gently around, nudging my hip with his, "There you go, you're getting it!" he encouraged.

I grinned despite my flush of embarrassment and shook my head, "You're far too enthusiastic. But thank you," I murmured gratefully.

The music changed and slowed and in a breath Miguel's hand was around mine and pulling me into his arms. I stiffened and tried to pull away, "What're you—"

"Just relax Rebecca, I have no untoward intentions, I promise you," he murmured, leaning back to give me a solemn nod.

After a moment I sighed and loosened my grip on his hand, shoulders drooping as he began leading us through the steps of a slow waltz. Slowly I began to relax as Miguel chattered, my brain only half tuning in to what he was saying.

"Can you confirm something I have heard rumored?" Miguel asked softly and I hummed noncommittally, still lost in thought.

"You are married to President Monroe, is that correct?"

At this my eyes flashed to his, wide with shock. It wasn't unknown information, but most people chose not to acknowledge the situation.

"Where did you hear something like that?" I murmured, casting my gaze over his shoulder, avoiding his eyes.

"Spies, of course," he replied just as quietly, and I could see his brow lift out of the corner of my eye.

"Hmmm, well, what you've heard isn't strictly true. We were never married. We never had the time before our son was born and after…" I trailed off, throat closing up at the swell of memories that washed over me.

"Your son?" Miguel murmured softly, "I hadn't heard you had children," he admitted.

Swallowing hard I shook my head, blinking rapidly at the tears forming, looking away from him until I was able to speak. "My son William was two years old when he was murdered by rebels. It was his birthday and they bombed the restaurant. They killed fifteen other people and injured 37."

We had stopped dancing and Miguel was looking at me with such sorrow in his eyes that I tore my hand out of his and walked away, stomach curling with bile. I began running, heart pounding as I raced for my room, a cold sweat on my skin.

Slamming the door behind me I collapsed onto the couch in the living area, chest throbbing with the intensity of my grief, dry sobs wracking my body.

There was a knock at the door and then Miguel called out softly, "Rebecca?"

I inhaled sharply and pounded my palm into the fabric of the couch, muffling my pained cry with a pillow. The grief was so sharp it left me breathless. Struggling against it I took three long breaths and then rose weakly to my feet, stumbling to the door, dry eyed, but bleary.

When I flung open the door Miguel regarded me sadly and then shook his head faintly, "May I come in?" he asked.

Stepping aside I waved a hand, "It's your property anyway," I muttered, voice rough. He gave me a sad, reproachful look before stepping in and standing awkwardly beside the couch.

He waited until I sat and then joined me, hands twisting in his lap as he stared down at them. I didn't have anything to say to him, the grief and pain in my chest too intense for anything other than harsh angry words.

"I lost my wife and daughter two years ago. We had an outbreak of measles and it swept through the city, taking young and old alike. By the time it was over we had lost over 1200 people." He cleared his throat and shook his head, "It is not the same as your loss, but please, know that I understand what it is to lose a child. It is a pain that opens an abyss within your soul, a hole that can never be filled. You have lost something profound Rebecca, and I am sorry to have asked so lightly about it."

As he spoke the tears finally came and I turned away, hiding my face as I wept.

A firm hand closed around mine; squeezing it gently as I cried and in turn I clutched it desperately, weeping as the abyss within me opened.

\------------------------------------

_**AN: Yay update! I have a bunch of handwritten notes on how I want this story to go, I just don't have all the time to get it written, so I had to take a short hiatus on other stories to catch up. I think that this chapter gives us a better look into why Bass spirals more, and why Miles eventually betrays him. I hope you enjoy the chapter, please review!** _


	32. Crazy, Stupid, Love

Three weeks passed, three weeks in which we negotiated, bartered and traded, trying to finalize the treaty.

It seemed that the pain and grief that had been plaguing me for months had only been growing worse with each passing day. It would slam into me like a knife at the oddest of times, strangling me with pain until it felt like I couldn't breathe.

Miguel oddly enough seemed to know when it was happening, and would take us out for long walks, pointing out the historical artifacts within the city, introducing me to members of the community, and in general keeping me distracted.

There were other, worse times, when I wanted nothing more than to drink myself into oblivion, to find some drug, some cure for the pain that ate me alive. It was on these nights that I drank far too much wine and fell into a black sleep, soothing the demons inside.

Last night was one such night and as I wiped the night sweat from my face I heard a knock on my bedroom door. I quickly rinsed my mouth with the mint water provided and scowled as whoever it was knocked again.

Throwing the door open I glared up at Miguel, "It's awfully early for a house call," I snapped, head throbbing. He smiled softly, eyes skimming over me and a flush rose on my chest as I realized I was still in just a tank top and underwear.

"Maybe, but I thought perhaps you might want to join me on a horseback ride out to the river. It is a hot morning already, perhaps a swim would cool us and clear our heads and hearts," he murmured.

Sweat beaded down my neck and I wiped a hand across my eyes, grimacing at the pain pounding within my skull. A swim did sound good…

Sighing, I nodded, "I don't have a suit," I murmured.

Miguel shrugged, "We'll find you something. Meet me out front in thirty minutes," he encouraged, waiting for my nod before turning and leaving me sweating in the heat.

With a faint growl I slammed the door shut and then groaned as the sound reverberated painfully through my skull. I washed off quickly in the basin of rosewater and pulled on a clean tank top and shorts, lacing up my boots and slapping on a ball cap over my braided hair.

I quickly stopped by Natasha's room to let her know I'd be heading out and that she didn't need to come. She wasn't pleased to fine I was going unescorted from the city with Miguel, but then, she also trusted that if something did happen, the Texans were smart enough to know they would be eliciting war.

I bid her farewell and slid sunglasses on as I stepped outside, muttering curses as the heat washed over me like a hot, wet blanket.

"Rebecca," Miguel called, waving at me from further down the street, holding the reins of both Beda and a black gelding with a white star on his nose. I waved back and strode over, grimacing at the sweat already beading down my neck and spine.

We mounted up and after a moment cantered out of the city, making quickly for the river. It was a short two mile ride but in the heat and humidity it felt like two hundred. As we neared the river a cool breeze blew across my skin and I shivered, humming softly in pleasure at the sensation.

We picketed the horses under a large oak tree, allowing them room to maneuver. Miguel tossed me a bundle of fabric and pointed to the tree, "I'll meet you in the water," he called before tugging on the neck of his shirt and turning away.

I went to the tree and stripped, pulling on the bikini, frowning when I saw it was turquoise with fuchsia flowers on the breasts. It was also a size too small, barely containing either my ass or my breasts.

Breathing out heavily I shook my head and carried my boots and clothes close to the river, ignoring Miguel for the moment as I slid into the water. A shiver ran over my skin and I yelped softly as the water ran over my collarbones, chilling me instantly.

Miguel grinned and swam closer his muscular arms cutting through the water until he was treading water right in front of me. "Better?" he asked teasingly, his eyes warm with amusement.

I shot him a half amused look and nodded, "I suppose so," I drawled, "It's certainly better than sitting in a conference room and sweating our asses off," I agreed.

"While true, we should use this time to relax, not discuss the treaty. We are almost finished with our negotiations, and soon you will be returning home to your Republic. We will enjoy our days in peace until then," he murmured.

After eyeing him for a moment I nodded in agreement and then ducked under water, exhaling as the cool water soaked into my hair and against my scalp. Surfacing, I kept my mouth below the water and then spat water into Miguel's face, giggling when he gasped and spluttered, giving me an indignant look.

A moment later he splashed water towards me with his large hands and so began the epic water battle of '23. When we finally called a truce I splayed out and floated in the water, grinning as Miguel floated beside me.

The sun warmed the water around us, the tension in my body slowly melting away until I was relaxed and half awake, bobbing along on a sea of contentment.

"Would you stay if you could?"

Miguel's question surprised me and I rolled over to eye him with thought, "You mean here, in Texas?" I asked softly. He nodded and I lifted a brow, "If I did that war would surely erupt between our nations. My husband is not a patient man," I told him softly.

His face was carefully blank as he asked, "Do you want to go back to him?"

As I stood taller the hot air brushed against my skin and a shiver ran through me. "Why are you asking me such a thing?" I asked softly, a knot forming in my stomach as I stared into his warm brown eyes.

He smiled wryly, "Call it curiosity," he replied quietly.

Looking into his eyes, it struck me suddenly that the emotion in his gaze wasn't that of curiosity, it was a far more intense one that left me breathless, stomach aching with nervous energy.

Swallowing hard, I brushed wet strands of hair back from my face and stepped closer to him, "I want to go back to my home, to my friends, to my nation. My husband…isn't the man he once was," I murmured, tears stinging in my eyes.

Miguel made a soft noise and a moment later his large hands were wrapping around my forearms, lifting my gaze to his. My heart pounded in my chest at the look on his face, heat flushing over my body as his thumbs stroked my wrists.

"From what I know of the man, he doesn't deserve a treasure like you," he whispered.

Inhaling sharply I shook my head and looked away, tears burning in my eyes, "Don't Miguel…just…don't," I whispered brokenly.

"Why Rebecca? What do you have to fear?" he murmured gently. "Is it me? Do I scare you?" he asked softly.

My throat clenched and I shook my head, trying to not to cry. My voice was broken as I spoke, "No Miguel,  _I_ scare me. I have so much anger and grief I'm scared I would only be using you to hurt my husband."

"What if I didn't care?" Miguel asked after a moment and I looked up at him sharply, tears tracing tracks down my cheeks. He released one of my wrists and reached out to gently wipe at the tears, "What if I wanted you and didn't care why you said yes?" he asked.

My eyes shuddered closed at his touch and I trembled against him, breath shaking out unsteadily. Opening my eyes a moment later I lifted my free hand to brush against his cheek, feeling it in my palm when he made a low noise, the sound deepening when my fingers traced through his hair.

His hand at my wrist loosened and slid around my waist, drawing me slowly against him until my breasts were pressed into his muscular chest and our hips met in a move that made my breath catch.

Miguel's fingers spread over my back, pressing me close as I wound my arm around his shoulders. Our eyes didn't leave each other as he tilted his mouth towards mine, approaching me slowly, as though I was a skittish horse that might bolt at the slightest touch.

When his mouth captured mine I stiffened at the unfamiliar touch, then relaxed as his mouth moved gently, firmly over mine. Soon heat spread through my limbs and I was leaning into the kiss, fingers curling into Miguel's hair as our tongues twined together hesitantly at first then more enthusiastically.

As we grew bolder in our touches and kisses, Miguel began kissing along my neck, the scrape of his five o clock shadow burning pleasantly against my skin, summoning a heated pleasure within me.

I panted as his hands roamed over my skin, untying the bikini top to pull off me a moment later, the warm breeze tickling at my erect nipples. Miguel cupped one of my breasts as he sucked on my neck, thumb stroking over it until it was aching with pleasure and I was mewling softly.

When his mouth closed around the nipple I groaned softly and arched into his touch, rolling my hips into his erection, gasping as he sucked and nipped at my tender skin. One of his hands slid down my waist and under the band of the bikini bottom, sinking into my heated flesh a breath later.

Whimpering at the touch I arched into his multiple touches, swept away in pleasure. His fingers slid within me to pump lazily, curling and scraping along the spot within me that left me shuddering, gasping his name.

His mouth covered my throat and breasts with kisses, his thumb stroking my clit unexpectedly, sending shivers through my body. He groaned as my walls fluttered around his fingers eagerly and his thumb continued to stroke, slowly, firmly.

I moaned and gasped, fingers digging into Miguel's shoulder and scalp as I shuddered under his touch. As he curled his fingers faster within me I trembled and moaned, chest heaving with need. I could feel the pleasure building deep within me, heat curling and pooling in my belly until I was crying out loudly, "Oh! Ah, Miguel!" I gasped.

He panted against my neck as he pressed a kiss there, walking slowly backward until the water was just at our hips. His fingers slid from within me and I whimpered at the loss of sensation. Sliding a hand between us I stroked his hard length, the heat of him practically searing even through his boxers.

Miguel moaned and his hips canted forward, a pained look on his face. I pushed on his shoulder and pointed to a boulder behind us, "Sit," I ordered and he nodded, groaning as I continued to stroke him.

He collapsed down onto the rock and held me close, my hips straddling his as I stroked him through his boxers.

"I want…"

He choked off as I pushed aside his boxers and wrapped my hand around his bare cock, squeezing at the base until he grunted and thrust into my touch.

Water lapped at our calves as I stroked him, watching as Miguel rocked back onto his elbows panting as he watched me. After a few minutes he grabbed my wrist and stilled me, his face pained, "You need to stop if you want me to be able to keep going," he panted.

He swallowed hard, "If you don't want…" he trailed off for a moment and then smiled harshly, "then keep going," he encouraged.

I stared down at him and wondered how such a sweet, kind man hand wound up desiring  _me_. I was little more than a broken shell of a woman, ready to break her trust with her husband for a man I barely knew.

He must have seen some that on my face because he leaned up, wrapping a hand through my hair as he kissed me, his mouth gentle but desperate, as though he could give me everything I needed with that one kiss.

Perhaps he did, because when he broke away to pant for air there was an air of resignation about him before I slid forward into his lap and shifted aside my bikini bottoms, taking him in hand once more to guide him into me.

Our eyes locked as I slid down his length, whimpering and gasping at how thick he was. I panted for breath, feeling him stretch me out until he was seated fully inside me and Miguel was breathing heavily.

Slowly I rolled my hips, allowing him to stretch me as I rode him, pleasure swelling within me once more. Miguel groaned my name, his hands tight on my hips as we moved against each other, our movements growing more frantic as he began rubbing on my clit once more.

Miguel's mouth closed on my nipple as he thrust into me, sucking until I cried out brokenly, my walls slick and fluttering around him as he filled me over and over again. Miguel's fingers stroked faster on my clit and I shuddered as pleasure swelled within me.

Arching into his mouth and digging my hands into his shoulders, I cried out loudly as he thrust harder and faster into me, pleasure shredding my nerves until I stiffened and came with a broken shriek, gasping and shuddering.

Miguel cried out my name, fingers bruising my hips as he plunged into me, his fingers still stroking my clit as he came, his whole body shivering with the intensity of his orgasm.

We rocked against each other for long minutes afterwards, moaning softly as sensation became over-sensation and our limbs soon lost the strength to continue. We collapsed together in a sweaty pile and I could feel his heart thundering against mine.

Eventually I slid from beside him and back into the water, cooling my body and scrubbing the cum from between my legs without word. When I climbed from the water Miguel followed, offering me the bikini top which I refused, pulling my clothes back on.

We rode in silence back to the city, unsaddling our horses and walking together back to the capitol building. Miguel followed me to my room and laid a hand on my shoulder, pausing me before I slipped inside.

I looked at him sidelong, "Yes?"

"I'll bring you the morning after pill after dinner, okay?" he murmured.

I hesitated for a moment and then nodded. When he released me I slipped inside and shut the door behind me, exhaling sharply.

"Have a good ride?"

I glanced over at Natasha, swallowing hard against the lies rising on my tongue. Her gaze was piercing, knowing.

"Why don't we sit," I murmured, grabbing the bottle of wine as I went to the couch.

Natasha followed me and refused the glass of wine offered. I swallowed a large gulp of wine and then dove into the story, sharing all the details I thought she could handle.

When I finished Natasha reached out and took a long sip of wine from my glass. Her eyes were sad as she looked at me, shaking her head.

"He can't ever find out," she murmured.

I nodded; if Bass ever knew what had happened, he would start a war with Texas and would very likely go insane.

"We'll finish the treaty tomorrow and leave. It won't happen again," I murmured.

Nat nodded, but looked skeptical; still, she wisely kept her thoughts to herself.

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It happened again. Three more times in fact.

When we had finally completed the treaty Miguel had sent word throughout Texas that we were now allies. I could still feel his hand pressed into my thigh as we parted ways, his dark eyes looking up at me sadly, "Goodbye querida," his parting words to me.

He had made sure to get me the morning after pill each time, but still, worry ate at me. If I became pregnant with another man's baby…

I shook my head, trying to dispel my fears.

I had made a terrible mistake by sleeping with Miguel, one that had put the treaty and my own personal independence at risk. I was angry and hurt, deeply so, by my son's death, but I needed my husband.

We needed each other.

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**March 12** **th** **2023**

Snow still lay heavily on the ground in Philadelphia as we approached Independence Hall. The Militia were formed up throughout the city, patrolling and stopping citizens before sending them on their way.

There was an air of unease as we rode, people glancing at us with looks of fear before hurrying away. As we dismounted and hurried into the building, I was greeted by a bevy of assistants with messages, paperwork, and news.

We hurried to my office where the next few hours were spent detailing the treaty and laws that would be instituted because of it. A hard rap at the door brought my head up to find Miles standing ramrod straight in the doorway, his face hard.

With a grin I stood and hurried over, stopping myself from throwing my arms around him just barely. "General, what can I do for you?" I asked with a grin.

"The President would like to see you," he murmured, stepping aside, indicating for me to leave.

Raising a brow I shook my head, "I'm sorry General, I'm busy at the moment, could you please inform the President I will see him at dinner tonight in his quarters? I look forward to seeing him," I murmured.

Miles stared down at me for a moment before grunting and grabbing my arm, hauling me out into the hallway, his dark eyes angry. "He's not asking Becca," he snapped quietly, his voice dangerous.

I smiled tightly up at him, "Neither am I Miles. I'm his wife speaking to you, not the ambassador. I'll see him tonight at dinner. I have work that is critical and will keep our nation safe. If he wishes to see me he is capable of coming to my office like anyone else."

Miles growled and shook his head, "Fine. It's on your head," he snarled before releasing me and striding away angrily.

I watched him go for a moment before heading back into my office to work. It was no more than fifteen minutes later that I heard boots striding down the hall and my heart began to race.

The office door slammed open, banging against the wall and startling my assistants. Bass glowered from the doorway, chest heaving with rage, eyes flashing like a storm. I rose from my desk and smiled pleasantly at him, "President Monroe, what can I do for you?" I murmured, knowing the polite solicitude would anger him more.

If we were going to have this out, we were going to do it in a spectacular manner.

Bass glared at my colleagues and waved a dismissive hand, "Leave," he ordered, and they scattered like flies in the wind. When the door slammed shut, leaving just the two of us, I jutted out a hip and crossed my arms over my chest, watching as his eyes flashed over my body for a moment.

"What do you need Mr. President?" I asked in a nonchalant voice.

Bass scowled, "I need you to obey when I order you to do something," he snapped.

My brows rose and my gut twisted, "You might have forgotten this since I left, but we don't  _order_  each other to do things Mr. President, we ask, we argue our point, we discuss. I may be your Ambassador, but I am also your wife, the person who has always had your back. I don't take orders from you," I snapped back, standing straighter, my hands falling to my sides to clench into fists.

Bass rumbled low in his chest and took large steps across the room until he was standing in front of me, his extra height allowing him to tower over me. His eyes flashed with anger, roiling like a storm.

"I  _will_  order you, because my  _wife_  would not have abandoned me as you did," he snarled. "You betrayed my trust, our marriage, the memory of our son," he hissed and I snapped up straighter, glaring at him.

"How  _dare_ you accuse me of betraying our son," I snarled, "I am not the one who murdered women and children in retaliation for his death. You poisoned his memory by doing so Bass, you tainted everything good about him and made it so I could only associate his passing with even more death," I told him brokenly.

Tears pooled in my eyes and I reached out to grab his jacket, shaking him, "Our  _son_  Bass, our William," I gasped, a sob breaking in my chest. "He's  _gone_ , and you murdered children  _just like him_."

Bass's eyes filled and he shook his head rapidly, as though he was trying to shake off my words. "I had to, they had to know they couldn't get away with what they did," he whispered.

I shook him again, " _Children_ , Bass, you  _murdered_  children. You might as well join the rebels if you think what you did was right!" I cried, shaking him.

Bass sobbed and gripped my wrists trying to shove me off, but I fought him, shoving him until he was against the wall. "Why Bass?  _Why?_ " I demanded tearfully and he broke, crying and slumping into the wall.

"I had to protect you, I had to protect Miles. You're the only family I have left. The rebels are a threat. They had to know what would happen to them if they struck at us again," he whispered hastily, words broken by his tears.

His hands lifted to wrap around the base of my skull, his broken eyes boring into mine as he cried, "You think I don't know what I've done? I am haunted by them," he whispered, his eyes growing bleak.

"Tell me I haven't lost you," he begged, "Please, Rebecca, my love, my wife, you are my everything. Please tell me I haven't lost you," he cried brokenly.

I stared at him for such a long time, contemplating his actions and my own hidden sins that he wept anew, thinking I was repudiating him. After a long moment I sighed shakily and slid my arms slowly around his waist, my eyes meeting his.

"I've done terrible things too Sebastian. I've betrayed your trust. But you haven't lost me. I'm here, I'm home," I whispered, swallowing against my tears as a look of such painful hope grew on his face that it made my heart ache.

His hands at my neck pulled, tilting my head up so he could kiss me, his mouth desperate and needy. I clung to him trying not to remember another man's kisses, touches, soft proclamations of love.

Bass peppered kisses over my cheeks, his tears dotting my skin as he cried softly. "I love you Becca, I love you," he whispered.

Swallowing around the guilt I nodded and kissed him back, "I love you too."

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_**AN: So i came up with this chapter somewhere around the beginning of the story, so just know it's been a long time coming. I think that people are infinitely complicated and react in different ways to grief and loss, and while it makes Becca a little less likeable, i think it makes her more human. So yea, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review!  
** _


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